Puppy eyes
by Jolena Sternlicht
Summary: A series of murders takes place in the vicinity of L.A. The victims have one thing in common. They are known to mistreat animals. Rigsby and van Pelt go undercover to investigate among animal welfare activists.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at a Mentalist story. I usually write for the X-Files but somehow this idea came to my head **

**wldwmn is totally to blame for this little piece of Rigspelt foolishness for she encouraged me to write it and she pre-read it for me. Thanks a lot.  
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**Please know that English is not my first language so feel free to point out any typos and other errors.**

**Oh, of course, I don't own anything. ;)  
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><p>"I'm sorry, Boss, but no way.", Agent Wayne Rigsby stated vehemently. He held senior agent Lisbon's eyes for a few seconds to emphasize his words, then turned around and left her office, lest she try to order him into doing what she wanted. Frowning, Lisbon stared after him, her eyes lingering on the closing door for a moment, then muttered to herself: "What the hell was that?"<p>

"I'd say Rigsby just refused.", came the answer from a corner of the room, where her consultant lazed around on the couch. She turned to him, glaring. "I got that, Jane. But I have no clue why he did it. I'd have thought he would jump at the chance to do this with van Pelt. We all know he has a thing for her. God only knows how many headaches I suffered on their behalf."

Jane swung his legs around to sit upright, then patted the cushion he had just vacated invitingly. When she declined, pacing her office instead, he suggested: "Maybe that's what's keeping him. He may be afraid of ruining what they have."

"That's bull, and you know it. They don't have anything."

"I beg to differ, my dear.", Jane answered. "There's definitely chemistry between these two, and let's not forget the fact that she trusts him."

The dark-haired agent snorted. "They're partners, they're supposed to trust each other."

"Not necessarily", Jane disagreed. "We're supposed to be partners as well but you hardly trust me."

"I wonder why.", she muttered bitterly before slumping down on her chair. "Let's hope Rigsby changes his mind before the higher-ups have my hide. Again.", she added as an afterthought, looking pointedly at the blond man on her couch who gave her his best _Who? Me?_-eyes.

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><p>"Rigsby, we need to talk!"<p>

The tall agent looked up from the coffee he had just made, startled by the harsh request. He had never seen Grace van Pelt look so furious, but still he had to admit she was beautiful in her wrath.

"Um... okay.", he agreed, certain he'd be able to calm her with his news. Was he ever wrong.

"Now.", she hissed, grabbing his arm, dragging him to the nearest interrogation room and slamming the door behind them. She spun around to glare at her partner.

"Okay, Rigsby. Why?", she demanded. He shrugged. "Well, that's easy. The boss told me to. But don't worry, I already refused."

"My point exactly.", the redhead snapped. "I want to know why."

Confusion washed over Rigsby's face. Scratching his head, he replied: "Wait. You're not mad because of the assignment, you're mad because I refused?"

If she hadn't been so angry at her partner right now she would have smiled at his obvious cluelessness which always made him look so cute. Instead, she glared at him some more.

"Well, yes.", she said, her voice still full of anger and... pain? Could he have hurt her by refusing the assignment? If anything, he'd assumed she would be glad he'd saved them from the task. Calming slightly, van Pelt nodded. "Yes.", she confirmed. "I want to know why you don't trust me with this job."

He hastened to reassure her: "How can you ever think that? I trust you. You're a good agent, despite the short time you've been in the field. You are a quick learner and a valuable member of the team."

Now it was her turn to be confused. "Then why don't you want to go undercover with me? You believe I don't have enough experience, right? That I won't be able to watch your back. You're wrong. I can do it.", she said, somewhat defensively.

"Believe me, I know you can do it.", he answered softly. "The problem is, I don't know if I can."

"Oh, come on, Rigsby, you've been on the job for much longer than I have. Don't tell me you can't go through with this. It's only a small assignment, we don't even have to prepare for too long. It would be a great opportunity for me to actually do something useful for once instead of staying behind and doing background checks. The boss thinks I'm perfect for this assignment due to my personal background and my volunteer work but she also made it clear that she won't send me there on my own. I only can go when you come along and now you mean to tell me you won't? That's just not fair."

He knew she was right. If they were able to finish the operation successfully, they would be noticed by their superiors which would be good for their careers. He honestly couldn't care less but he was well aware that it was important to the rookie agent. Still, he knew the price they'd have to pay could be too much. How he was going to make van Pelt understand was a completely different question, though.

"Listen.", he began, hoping she'd hear him out and not start yelling again. "I have absolutely no doubt that you'll do good in the assignment, although I know nothing about your personal background concerning the matter. I do, however, have objections to the fact that we're supposed to pose as a couple. That's the part I'm not so sure about."

"Why?", she wanted to know. "Do you think we won't be able to make it look real?"

"No, that's not it. I just don't think we'll be able to go through this without ruining our partnership."

"So you're saying we should pass up on the opportunity to catch a murderer because you can't pretend to be with me? I'm sure we'll be able to pull this off. I really want to try."

"You got me wrong here, Grace." He said her given name softly, almost reverently, as if to make it clear that what he was going to say next would be nothing but the truth. She looked him in the eye questioningly. "Then what are you saying?", she repeated.

"What I'm saying is that we won't only have to live together, share an apartment and tell everybody we're an item. It doesn't end at that. We'll have to act it out in public, hold hands, embrace, kiss..." His voice trailed off and for a moment he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. van Pelt's reply brought him back abruptly, though. "Don't you think I can see the difference between the assignment and our real relationship as partners and... friends? I assure you I will think nothing of what you and I will have to do for the operation to work.", she promised. Rigsby shook his head. "I'm sure you believe that now, but this assignment could change everything. I've never been in an undercover operation myself but I've seen it happen. Law enforcement often forces male/female partners to pose as couples because they tend to understand each other without words anyway. The problem is, when you're undercover, you have to keep up with your story no matter what happens. Many partners don't manage to go back to what they had before because when you live together the lines tend to get blurry. Intimacy is required and feels natural. When the operation is over all that was said and done while it lasted stands between the partners. All that's left is an awkward feeling. I don't want that to happen to us, Grace, that's why I refused when Lisbon asked me."

She read on his face that he was sincere and had to admit that the possibility of losing her easy pace with him, the comfortable feeling she had in his presence, scared her. Still, she was determined to accept the assignment. The scenario he had just painted out for her could never happen to the two of them, could it? They were good together, she knew that. Despite the fact that everybody on the team made fun of Rigsby for the way he behaved towards her she was certain that they were envied for the ease with which they understood each other when it really mattered. He was the one who had eased her mind when she had been new to the team and was still secretly scared of their hot-tempered boss. She had liked his chivalrous manners at once, finding that his presence could calm her no matter what. She was confident that they would make it right, even if the assignment would prove to be harder than expected.

"Somehow I doubt that this will be a problem for us.", she stated. "I trust you to watch my back and I trust you on this. Unless you don't trust me as well I don't see why we shouldn't be able to succeed with our partnership intact. I promise not to hold anything against you once the operation is over. This is important for me, Rigsby, so please don't take it from me. Please?" He knew he shouldn't have looked into her eyes because as soon as he saw the barely concealed hope there he was lost. Slowly, he nodded. "Fine, we'll do it. But we'll have to talk during the assingment. A lot. No hiding anything, okay?" She beamed at him, hardly refraining from squealing in delight, then threw her arms around him in the biggest hug he had ever experienced. "Thank you, Wayne.", she whispered into his shirt before letting go. "Come on, let's tell the boss before you change your mind again." With that, she was out of the door not even looking if he would follow. Sighing, Rigsby trailed behind her. This was going to be the hardest job of his life, he was sure of that. Still, making her happy was worth it, at least at the moment. He could only hope they'd be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

Once Rigsby had agreed to take the assignment everything happened in a rush. The two agents had gone over to L.A. for a few days of briefing, then got their fake IDs and off they went to their new temporary home. Rigsby had been surprised to learn that van Pelt had been doing volunteer work at an animal shelter for some time, keeping quiet about it at the office. He had meant to ask her about that during their briefing but didn't get the chance because they'd hardly had time for themselves. Her experience with homeless animals in addition to her growing up in a rural environment made her the perfect choice for an operation among animal welfare activists. They were to mingle with the activists, keep their eyes open and collect as much information as possible.

Over the last few weeks four people had been murdered in the vicinity of L.A. One victim was burned after being doused with fuel, one had been drowned, one strangled and one man had been beaten to death. At first the local authorities hadn't seen a connection, considering the victims had nothing in common. One was female, two were black, they had different social backgrounds. Their paths had obviously never crossed in their lives. Then a rookie detective who was assignet to one of the cases had found out that their victim, the one who had been drowned in her own toilet bowl, had been reported by some neighbors for mistreating her dog. The detective in charge had thought nothing of that until he heard about another station investigating the murder of a man who had been known for his cruelty towards the neighbors' cats. The detectives had compared notes and learned of at least two other violent murders where the victims had a record of mistreating animals. It had become clear that they were looking for a serial killer.

After failing to get access to the tightly knit community of animal welfare activists the idea of an undercover operation had occurred.

So here they were. van Pelt knew her way around animal welfare whereas Rigsby was supposed to add his years of experience on the force to the operation and keep her safe.

They had been allowed to keep their given names, thus making their interaction less complicated.

"I guess we're finally home.", van Pelt joked as she turned the key in the lock of an apartment door so much like all the other doors in the building that she would have been lost, had it not been for the faded 27 that was painted to the wood.

"My lucky number", she added with a nod to the door before entering. Rigsby followed, carrying two heavy duffle bags containing their security equipment and a few clothes to cover up the electronics. The rest of their clothes and personal things had already been moved to the small apartment by the local forces.

Rigsby had to smile at van Pelt's enthusiasm. Ever since he had given in to her plea she had acted like a child waiting for Christmas. She had eagerly absorbed all the information about the case provided by the LAPD, hell, she'd even taken notes. Now she was all smiles and he'd be damned if he didn't detect a certain spring to her every step as she was moving from room to room, calling out to him every now and then when discovering something that delighted her. They finally met in the bedroom where van Pelt had just discovered her clothes among his in a big, blue closet. She went through the items, trying to find out if anything was missing. Rigsby felt a strange sensation as he looked at their clothes, lying side by side. It felt... right. Right to have her things mixed with his. Right to have her here in their shared bedroom. He chided himself immediately for the improper feeling, then turned to watch their accommodations more closely. It was a small room, painted in a soft yellow, with a window facing east. There was the blue closet, a dresser with a mirror above it and a queen-size bed on which van Pelt currently bounced. This brought another revelation: They would have to share a bed. Obviously this had occurred to her, too, for she ceased her movement and caught his eyes, her own hazel orbs wide and insecure. He almost smiled. "Don't worry", he said. "I'll sleep on the couch in the living room."

She shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous. We're both adults, after all. We can share."

"Are you sure?", he wanted to know.

"Yes. I've said it before, I trust you. But if you tell Jane I'm going to shoot you."

He grinned, relieved. "Don't worry, I wasn't planning to. He already knows enough to make my life miserable."

This sorted out, they explored the rest of the apartment. The living room was medium sized and furnished with a couch, coffee table and a TV, much to Rigsby's relief. On a shelf there were various books, mostly novels. van Pelt discovered the odd romance novel and tried to act casual about it but Rigsby knew she would secretly read one or the other. In the small kitchen there was a table with four chairs where they would share their meals. This brought on another question.

"I never bothered to ask, van Pelt. Do you cook?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes. I hardly ever do it at home because it's pointless to cook for yourself when nobody is around to appreciate it. But I know enough to prevent you from starving."

"I'm relieved.", he countered, opening the fridge to see whether the crew responsible for preparing the apartment had thought of stocking up on the essentials. He was satisfied when he found the fridge full. van Pelt smiled to herself. It was so easy to please Rigsby. All he needed was a kitchen full of food. She wondered what else made him happy. Maybe she would find out over the next few weeks. A thought crossed her mind.

"Rigsby?"

He closed the fridge and turned around. "Yeah?"

"We should probably start calling each other by our given names. It will take some getting used to and we don't want to slip tomorrow when we visit the animal shelter."

"You're right. I almost forgot about that. So, Grace..."

"Yes?"

"Nothing. Just trying it on."

"Well, tell me if it fits – Wayne."

His given name flowed from her tongue almost naturally though she still needed a moment to realize she was still talking to Rigsby.

"Do you want to unpack our equipment or shall I do it?", he asked.

"Go ahead, I'll prepare dinner.", she offered, making him smile broadly at her.

Rigsby stifled a yawn. A glance to the clock on the bedside table told him it was way past eleven. He had been to bed for some time, going through the case files again and occasionally watching his redheaded partner sitting in front of the dresser where she had put up her computer. van Pelt was reading through animal activist message boards, every once in a while scribbling something on a notepad. She had changed into yoga pants and a tank top hours ago, her legs were drawn up beneath her and she was clearly focused on her task. Rigsby put the file he had been reading aside, yawning again.

"Grace?", he muttered softly as not to startle her. He was a little surprised at how easily they'd changed to given names. They hardly slipped any more.

"Hm?", came the answer. Good, so she was finally getting sleepy. "It's late. We should call it a will be a busy day, visiting the shelter and everything."

"Right.", she agreed. I just want to finish going through this message board. It seems kind of promising. Why don't you go ahead and sleep?"

"Okay." Not exactly what he had been hoping for, he had to admit. Pulling the blanket over his chest he rolled onto his side. "Don't be too long. G'night."

"Night.", she murmured, then went back to her task.

When he next looked at the clock it was past midnight. Grace was still staring at the screen, her eyes fixed on the soft glow. He heard her sigh tiredly as she ran a hand through her hair. She had to be exhausted by now but still she didn't let up.

"Are you done yet?", he wanted to know.

"No, I still have to go through some of the topics.", she replied, her words slightly slurry. Worriedly, he sat up and looked at her. "Come to bed. You must be dead on the spot."

"Nah. I'm not really tired." A huge yawn belied her words.

"I can see that.", he teased, then added: "You shouldn't push yourself on the first day. Remember, the boss is not around to bite your head off if you take a break."

Chuckling quietly she turned to him. "Seriously, I'm okay. You know I'm used to keeping crazy hours." Her tone was somewhat defensive. It took him a moment before realization dawned. She was stalling. Grace van Pelt wasn't comfortable sharing a bed with him and working through the night was her way of avoiding the matter at hand. He would have none of that.

"Listen.", he said. "If you don't want us to share the bed all you have to do is say so. I won't hold it against you. Just say the word and I'm off to the couch."

Her head whipped back to the screen but not quick enough to hide the blush that crept up on her cheeks. Disentangling from the blanket he stood, moving to where she sat and putting his hands on her shoulders. "You don't have to be embarrassed. It's perfectly alright. Come on, shut down your computer and go to bed. I'll move to the living room."

He was already on his way when he heard her whisper: "Don't". He stopped in his tracks, facing her once more. She had turned on her chair, staring up at him. The soft light emanated from the computer cast an eerie glow on her face, making it impossible for him to read her eyes.

Grace reached out to him, taking his much larger hand in hers, effectively preventing him from leaving. She seemed at a loss for words for a moment, and he was beginning to worry when she finally spoke.

"I don't mean to complicate things, Wayne, and I'm sorry. It's not that I'm afraid of you or that I think you would do anything improper. Still, this feels... strange. I haven't shared a bed with anyone since... well, it seems like forever. I really want this to work but I don't know how to do it."

Smiling, he squeezed her hand. "Don't worry about it, Grace. We'll do fine. As to the how, that's easy. You just lay down and close your eyes, I bet sleep will come in no time." Rigsby pulled the slender woman to her feet, tugging at her hand until she was standing next to the bed which suddenly looked decidedly smaller than a few hours ago. She flashed him a grateful smile before letting go of his hand and crawling under the covers. He walked around the bed, switching off the computer on his way, and moved in next to Grace. "Don't worry, I won't bite.", he assured her, then switched off the light, plunging the bedroom into darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Again, I can't thank wldwmn enough for helping my English sound non-German. Without her, this story wouldn't be here, so off you go, drop some cyber chocolate into her inbox. ;)**

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><p>Rigsby woke to the sound of early birds chirping happily in a tree outside the bedroom window. The bedside clock told him it was just a few minutes to five. Much too early to get up, he decided, tightening his arms around the woman who was cuddled up against his chest...<p>

Wait! There was a woman in his arms? Alarmed, he turned his head only to find his vision blurred by a shock of red hair. Grace. He breathed a sigh of relief as last night's events slowly came back to him. Now that he knew why she was with him he could relax and enjoy the sensation of her body literally wrapped around his. They had fallen asleep on opposide sides of the bed but must have gravitated towards each other in their sleep, ending up in the middle. Grace's head was on his chest, one arm thrown over his stomach, the other resting under her cheek. Her long, lean legs were tangled with his in a most sensual way. He was well aware of her warm breath on his skin even through his shirt. A wave of tenderness surged through him, clenching at his heart. It would be so easy to get used to her presence in his bed. He imagined waking up to her beautiful face every morning for the rest of his life. The thought alone made him reach out and touch her soft cheek, moving an auburn strand out of the way. Grace sighed in her sleep and he held his breath, afraid he had woken her with his ministration. But she didn't open her eyes, instead snuggling even closer, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Suppressing a happy sigh of his own, Rigsby placed his hand back on her hip and closed his eyes, intent on savouring every moment of this innocent bliss. It seemed that the assignment wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

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><p>He was back! Grace knew it, though she couldn't tell how she did. All she did know was that she needed to get away from him as quickly as possible before he hurt her again. Struggling against his grip, she tried to move but he wouldn't let her go. She woke to the all too familiar feeling of panic rising in her chest, sending her arms and legs flailing, thrashing wildly to free herself. Still, he wouldn't let up. He never did. The bastard wouldn't let her go before he had what he wanted. But she'd show him. She heard him say her name but ignored it. This time he wouldn't put his paws on her. Forcing herself to go limp she assessed her possibilities, then tightened her muscles. The moment he relaxed his grip and leaned over her she struck, punching him square on the nose. He didn't stand a chance to avoid her fist. When she heard him hiss in pain she freed herself, jumped out of bed and... tripped. She fell flat on her face, tangled in a blanket and unable to get to her feet. He had won again, and he would take her as he pleased. Burying her face in the fluffy carpet, she sobbed in fear and anger, awaiting his assault.<p>

"Grace?" She couldn't place the voice speaking her name at first. It wasn't the sneering, vicious tone she had expected. Instead, the voice was tender, worried. A gentle hand was placed on the back of her head, not pressing her face into the floor as she feared for a fleeting moment but stroking her hair softly. Slowly, her sobs subsided. Again she heard the voice she couldn't quite place but it sounded familiar. "Grace, honey, what's wrong?" The hand in her hair became more insistant, moving her head to the side so she could breathe properly. She was pulled up into a sitting position, propped against the bed. Still somebody was stroking her hear, so tenderly it almost make her cry again. After what felt like hours she finally dared to open her eyes only to be met by Wayne Rigsby's worried expression. His hair was ruffled, and his face was red from the blood trickling from his nose. She groaned in shame and buried her face in her palms. It had been a dream. Only a stupid nightmare, but she had to act on it and punch the man she was forced to spend the next few weeks with. He would demand an explanation. Damn, he deserved one for waking up to her fist in his face. But how was she ever going to explain what went through her head? She wouldn't, couldn't reveal her darkest secrets to a man she had to work with, no matter how understanding he usually was. Grace felt his eyes bore into her, the questions in them almost tangible. Still, he said nothing, just continued to stroke her hair, murmuring sweet nothings until her breathing had evened out and she was finally able to meet his eyes again.

"I'm sorry.", she muttered. Wayne shook his head. "Don't be, sweetheart. You had a nightmare. It was stupid of me to try and hold you when you obviously wanted to break free, so you had every right to punch me. Though, when I thought of being punched by one of my colleagues I always imagined it being the boss."

She suppressed a chuckle. Leave it to Rigsby to make her feel better by cracking a joke even now. "Still, I shouldn't have hit you and I'm sorry, Wayne."

He ceased stroking her hair, taking her face in both his hands and made her look him in the eyes. "It's okay. Nobody can control what they do during a nightmare. Believe me, I had my fair share of those, too, so I know how you feel. You are embarrassed right now but this is exactly what I was referring to the other day. We will have to talk about it eventually or it might end up standing between us when this is over. Right now, though, we have to get ready for the day. I think my nose needs tending to, and I should probably change my shirt. Why don't you start coffee while I clean up?"

He leaned over her and dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead before making his way to the bathroom. When he left the room he turned around once more.

"Oh, and Grace? I think I'll sleep on the couch tonight. I don't want to scare you again." With this he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving a slightly confused but profoundly grateful Grace behind.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was shining so brightly that both agents had put on their sunglasses on the ride to the animal shelter. Grace van Pelt looked out of the car window with unseeing eyes, deep in thought. If she had paid attention to her surroundings she would have been reminded of her childhood, for the fields and roads not far from L.A. bore a startling resemblance to her own hometown. Grace, however, was oblivious to the rural peacefulness around her. She didn't even notice Rigsby throwing her worried glances every now and then, whenever he could tear his eyes away from the road. He would have preferred to discuss this morning's events before leaving their temporary home to start their investigation. Unfortunately, they were due to arrive before noon so they didn't have the time to talk.

Grace was obviously confused and embarrassed by her previous behaviour but being the world's leading expert on Grace van Pelt's body language he detected something else lurking in the background. Something much deeper and darker. During his work in law enforcement he had encountered enough victims of violent crimes to recognize trauma when he saw it. Someone had hurt his partner in the past, bad enough to give her nightmares and panic attacks even now. Rigsby's hands clenched the wheel as he fought the desire to hunt that bastard down and make him pay. He knew he couldn't do that. What he could do, though, was be there for Grace whenever she needed him. She might not want to talk, but he would still be at her side, waiting patiently until she was ready.

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><p>When they neared their destination Rigsby cleared his throat to wake van Pelt from her reverie. She didn't react, so he reached out and lightly touched her shoulder. It took a moment for her to acknowledge his presence, then she turned to him.<p>

"We're almost there.", he told her. The redhead nodded and took a deep breath.

"Nervous?", he inquired.

"A little.", she had to admit. "I've never done this before, lying deliberately to people so they'll trust me. I know we have to do that but I'm not happy about it. This is more Jane's speciality."

This made him smile.

"You're an honest person, I know that. But in our field of work deception can be necessary. That doesn't make you a liar by nature."

"I know. Still, I'm not quite comfortable with it. Let's just hope they don't have someone like Jane in the shelter or they'll see through our scheme at once."

"Which scheme?", he teased. "We're just two people who love animals and want to support the shelter, right?"

She nodded. His words had put her at ease enough to get her confidence back. When they got out of their car Rigsby squeezed her arm reassuringly and she smiled at him before opening the gate and entering the shelter's yard.

At once they were surrounded by noise. All around the yard dogs were barking furiously, leaping up and down in their kennels, yapping, howling. Before the two agents had a chance to take a good look around a huge dog appeared from behind a house built of red bricks. It ran towards van Pelt and Rigsby at full speed, barking on top of its lungs. Taken aback, Rigsby took a protective step in front of van Pelt though she could tell from his posture that he was uncomfortable with the beast approaching him. She stepped forward to stand next to her partner, crouching and extending her hand towards the dog, palm up. The big animal screeched to a halt right in front of her, sniffing her hand curiously. Rigsby felt his heart skip a beat when the dog's enormous head moved closer to Grace's face, their noses only inches apart. If it were to snap now she would be seriously injured. Desperately wishing for his service weapon he held his breath, watching in awe as Grace broke into a big smile when the dog blew a huff of air across her face, then retreated a step and leaned the side of its head onto her still outstretched hand.

"Now that's a good boy.", she cooed softly, tracing her fingers through the plushy fur to find out how the dog liked best to be petted. Rigsby leaned forward to get a better view of the scene but her voice stopped him immediately. "Don't lean over him. That's considered a threat in dog lingo.", she whispered and proceeded to scratch the dog's ears, making it lean even further into her touch, sighing with pleasure.

Rigsby found himself suddenly jealous of the huge animal, so engrossed in the scene before him that he didn't notice a woman approaching.

"Sam, get back at once!", she ordered, pulling the dog's collar to get him to move. Then she addressed the couple.

"I'm Trish Wallace. Sorry about Sam. We didn't expect any guests this early or we wouldn't have let him run free. You're lucky he played nice today. Usually he guards our property quite viciously."

"No harm done.", Grace replied. "He seems to be a fine one." She offered her hand to the tall woman who, with her short, ash blond hair, jeans, shirt and boots looked a lot like a female cowboy. "I'm Grace Carpenter, this is Wayne Baker. I believe we talked on the phone."

Trish shook her hand firmly, then offered hers to Wayne who was surprised at the strength of her grip.

"Nice to meet you two.", she added, then motioned for them to follow her into the building.

They sat down at a large wooden table in what seemed to be an office/kitchen ensemble and Trish offered coffee. When they all had a cup in front of them the blonde spoke. "So, do tell me, Grace, what brings you from Sacramento to this God-forsaken place?"

van Pelt shrugged. "Wayne and I wanted to move in together and since we're planning to get married and start a family one day we figured it would be a good start to move somewhere more rural. We believe growing up in a big city isn't good for children." Rigsby nodded his agreement, silently berating himself for liking the thought of him and Grace raising children together. Trish merely smiled. "I think you're absolutely right about that. Sacramento's loss might be my gain, if I may say so. I'm happy to welcome you here. Mr. Iles from the shelter you worked at in Sacramento is full of praise for your work with mistreated and traumatized dogs. In his letter he says he's very sad to lose you. It's hard to find dedicated volunteers these days." Grace blushed slightly. She had asked Martin Iles for a letter of reference to get a head start with L.A.'s animal welfare activists but she hadn't expected him to sing her praise quite so loudly.

"I'm just doing my best, though it is not much.", she replied modestly. Trish shook her head. "Don't sell yourself short. You must have a very special way with dogs or Sam wouldn't have taken to you at once. He's usually skeptical towards strangers and it takes weeks before he trusts someone. You're obviously good at reading and reacting to dogs' body language. Just what we need around here." She turned to Rigsby. "What about you? Mr. Iles hasn't mentioned you in his letter. Do you have experience working with dogs?"

He shook his head. "My family kept a dog when I was a kid but that's about it. I like dogs but I hardly qualify as an expert on their body language. Living with Grace has taught me one thing, though: She needs pets around to be truly happy. We're going to adopt a dog as soon as we've settled down a bit, so I figured it couldn't hurt learning a thing or two about canine behaviour. My new job won't start until August, leaving me with seven weeks to kill, time I'll gladly devote to a cause my Grace feels so passionately about. I'm good with numbers and statistics and I'm not bad at fixing things so I might be of some help after all."

Grace suppressed a giggle, remembering the time when Rigsby had tried to change a light bulb in the bullpen and had fallen off his office chair in the process. They could only hope that Trish didn't put his skills to the test. The blonde smiled warmly at Rigsby. "Don't worry about that. We've got that covered. I'd like you to work with Grace for the time being. She'll teach you what you need to know to keep a dog. Grace, are you up for a challenge?"

van Pelt nodded. "Sure. What do you have for us?"

Trish's smile turned into a frown. "Sad story, actually. There's this little dog who came here just yesterday. He's four years old and has lived with his people all his live. They kept him on their property, the poor thing doesn't know anything other than his family and their yard. Suddenly they decided he's too much work, so they gave him up. Understandably he's scared out of his wits and shows this by growling and snapping at everyone who goes near him. After a while he'll calm but of course we can't find a new home for him as long as he's in that state. I'd like you to take a walk with him so he gets used to his surroundings. If you don't scare him too much you'll be fine."

* * *

><p>van Pelt agreed to the offered task and a few minutes later they were introduced to Lex, a small, timid bundle of sleek fur whose big, scared eyes touched even Rigsby. Grace took the leash and with a lot of persuading the pair left the yard with a resisting Lex in tow.<p>

When they had walked quietly for a few minutes Rigsby broke the silence. "What are we going to to with him?" He motioned to the little dog who hadn't even stopped his nervous pace once to sniff or lift his leg.

"Walk.", was van Pelt's short answer as she proceeded to do exactly that, steering them into a small forest where the trees shaded their path from the sunlight. Her partner followed, easily falling into step next to her as she walked briskly behind the dog who obviously couldn't get away from them fast enough, not realizing that they kept the same distance at all times due to the leash van Pelt was holding. She didn't elaborate, so Rigsby kept silent for a while before he got impatient and asked: "Do you think he'll ever stop?"

"I certainly hope so. Walking at a quick pace is relaxing to dogs so I'll let him do it for a while. I couldn't do anything else anyway. He's way too wound up to work with him properly.", she explained. Then she lapsed back into silence. After about half an hour of quiet walking Lex slowed down. Rigsby saw a small smile play across his partner's lips when the little dog finally stopped and gingerly sniffed at a patch of grass. When Lex was done she crouched, extended her hand and softly said his name. The dog hesitated ever so briefly, then he sidled towards her and sniffed her hand once. She whispered something Rigsby didn't catch, then stood up slowly and walked on across the sun-dappled path. "How did you do that?", Rigsby inquired. "He doesn't look quite as scared as he was when we left and he doesn't seem inclined on biting your hand off, either."

Keeping her eyes on the dog lest she missed a change in his mood she replied: "There's no magic behind that. Every dog wants a confident leader he can rely on to keep him safe. You can forget about all that nonsense of dogs wanting to become the leader of their pack. All they want is someone who keeps them well-fed, warm and away from harm. If you show them you're able to do that then they'll follow you to Hell and back. Lex here has lost his leader so he's quite forlorn. If he was a wolf he'd probably die because wolves need their family to survive. To little Lex the world now is a hostile, scary place and he knows he can't make it on his own. So he desperately looks for someone he can rely on. I'm making it clear that he can trust me and thus I'm taking some of his fears away."

"Yet you didn't say much to him."

"I did. You just didn't catch it. I talked with my body, face and the tone of my voice. Words don't mean a lot to him right now although I'm sure he knows a few commands. We're communicating in the universally known language that men and dogs developed over the centuries. All I have to do is emanate confidence and he'll follow my lead."

As if to prove her point the little dog moved up to van Pelt and sat in front of her, looking all the way up into her eyes. Smiling, she crouched once more and let him sniff her hand again. He took his time, finally burying his nose in the leg of her jeans and sighing. Carefully she drew her fingers across his side a few times before asking: "Okay, little one, ready to go home?" A tiny wag was Lex's answer. Rigsby had almost missed it but when he saw his partner's eyes light up he knew this must have been a break-through of some sorts. He didn't get to ask her about it, though, because she was concentrated on Lex's every move and brushed Rigsby off as soon as he opened his mouth. Grumbling slightly he decided he'd ask her later and watched her interact with Lex instead. He was surprised to find that she did indeed talk a lot to the dog without uttering a word. Whenever Lex stopped in his tracks to look at her she smiled brightly and dropped a treat into the dog's mouth, her whole body all but screaming "Good boy!" It was quite a sight, Rigsby had to admit. He was lucky to be the one to see her this relaxed and focused on something that came naturally and obviously made her happy.

* * *

><p>When they arrived back at the shelter Lex was reluctant to let van Pelt leave after she had brought him back to his kennel. Rigsby detected a hint of sadness when she returned to his side to find Trish and tell her about their progress. He bent down and whispered in her ear: "Don't worry. You'll see him again tomorrow."<p>

"Sure. Still I'm a little sad to leave him. That's what makes volunteer work so hard for me. If I could I'd adopt them all.", she confessed. He took her hand and squeezed it, deeply touched by this display of her gentle heart.

Trish was glad to hear that Lex had opened up to Grace, if only a little. She asked them to help cleaning the dogs' kennels for one of the staff had called in sick that day and she was short on helping hands. The pair happily complied, taking the opportunity to check out the other employees and volunteers they encountered. Rigsby noticed how easily van Pelt blended in, making small talk and sharing stories about her volunteer work in Sacramento. At first he wondered if she'd made them up but when he saw the emotions dancing across her lovely features he realized they were true. The others must have felt the same for when they finally left the shelter at seven it was with invitations for coffee from almost everyone of the staff.

On the drive home van Pelt wouldn't stop talking about each and every dog they'd encountered today and Rigsby smiled to himself at how talkaktiv the usually serious and quiet agent was all of a sudden. The closer they came to their apartment, though, the quieter she became, realizing that once they got home Rigsby would insist on talking about a very different and much more serious matter.


	5. Chapter 5

When Rigsby had driven them home they busied themselves with mundane tasks. van Pelt prepared dinner while her partner typed up everything they had learned on that day. After dinner he had van Pelt read through his report and she added and changed a few things, then the whole document was mailed to "Aunt Teresa" to keep their team up to date. Naturally, the case wasn't under Sacramento's jurisdiction but Lisbon had insisted she'd be their contact anyway, claiming she needed to know if her agents were safe.

That done, they were out of excuses to avoid the topic at hand. Anyway, Rigsby understood that his partner didn't want to talk yet and decided to watch some TV. van Pelt joined him on the couch, notebook in her lap, and proceeded browsing more animal welfare websites. Soon Rigsby found it hard to follow the show on TV and he watched her instead. He always found her especially alluring when she was engrossed in some task. When she concentrated hard she chewed on her lower lip and wrinkled her nose in the cutest of ways. Just like she did at the moment. Fascinated, he stared at her, not quite caring if she caught him. After a while she looked up from the screen questioningly. "Is something wrong?", she asked. He decided to be honest for once, they were acting as a couple after all, and Jane wasn't around to tease him. "No, nothing's wrong. I just like to watch you work, that's all."

A faint blush crept up on her cheeks at his words. "Why would that be?", she inquired.

"Now that's something I'd like to discuss some other time. We still have to talk about what happened this morning."

Her playful expression turned serious at once. "I... I don't think I'm ready to talk about that just yet. It's nothing, really, I had a nightmare, that's all."

His frown told her he didn't buy that.

"Don't lie to me.", he chided softly. "If you aren't ready to talk that's all right though I think we will have to eventually. I won't have your embarrassment stand between us. That wasn't just a nightmare. You had a panic attack and I'm willing to bet that it was caused by some traumatic event you had to go through in the past. I suspect it had something to do with a man."

She stared at him, surprised at how good he had read her. _Don't be stupid_, she berated herself. _He's a cop, of course he knows._ Still, nobody had ever guessed quite this correctly and been so calm about it. When she had told her last boyfriend about her little "problem" he had been furious, not at the man in her past but at her for being unable to let go of it and trust him. She just wasn't ready to lose Rigsby's friendship over this, so she shook her head. "Sorry. I'm used to keeping silent on the matter and it's hard to break that habit. Please give me some time."

His reassuring smile warmed her heart. "Of course I'll give you time, Grace. Take as much as you need. You should know, though, that I'm not going to judge you over whatever happened in the past. I won't think any less of you whatever you tell me and I really want you to trust me. But I know trust takes time to build and I'm willing to wait."

He brushed a stray tear she hadn't realized she was crying away from her cheek and added: "I won't let you down, Grace, no matter what."

Gratefully, she leaned into his touch, finding comfort in his tenderness. After a moment she found the courage to scoot closer to him and put her head on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her shoulders and he pulled her close, giving her the comfort she needed. He was her rock, she had known that from the start and even though he wasn't her type she again felt his pull on her. He wasn't only not her type, he was more of the type she'd shy away from, strong, burly, big. The kind of man she avoided closer interaction with. She preferred the lean, lanky type these days, men she could easily overpower with what she'd learned during her training. Still, Rigsby was an exception to this rule. With him she felt safe rather than threatened. She knew he was capable of violence, though, had seen it come to the surface more than once when some sicko threatened those weaker than himself. Then Rigsby's even, friendly temper changed like dark clouds mounting on a blue summer sky. He was a protective man and despite of the few times she'd seen him lash out at somebody she couldn't fear him for he only used his strength to protect, never to intimidate. That's why she could curl up against his side now, idly watching the silly sitcom on the screen and listening to Rigsby's breath.

Rigsby's eyes were trained on the redhead snuggled to his side. After sitting in silence with her for some time he felt her relax, her breath evened out. Both agents felt they could sit like this forever, frozen in time, pretending there was no past and no future to consider. It was pure bliss. But reality soon reared its ugly head when Rigsby broke into a yawn. It had been a long day after all and the physical work they'd done today finally took its toll. van Pelt turned her head on his shoulder to look at his face. She smiled softly at his tired expression. "You should get some sleep.", she suggested. "Go to bed, I'll take the couch."

He shook his head. "I won't let you do that. You should know by now that I'm too much of a gentleman to make you sleep out here. Still, I'm too tired to argue tonight, so just hush and go to bed."

"That's stupid, Wayne. The couch is too short for won't be comfortable and probably only end up hurting yourself."

"This thing is too small for any of us.", he stated. "You go ahead and don't worry. I'll live."

She hesitated for a moment, then said: "Why don't you come to bed with me? I'll probably do fine tonight. Usually those nightmares don't come more than once in a row."

"Sorry, Grace, that won't do. You were in shock this morning and I suspect it was because of my presence in bed. This won't happen to you again, at least not on my behalf." He yawned again. "It's really getting late. Now will you just go to bed before I have to drag you there?", he threatened playfully.

"You wouldn't!", she challenged.

"Try me. If you keep this up I might have to take desperate measures." The glint in his blue eyes told her he was joking but she hastily retreated to the bedroom nevertheless. You never knew how far Rigsby would go to ensure her well-being.

* * *

><p>Sleep didn't come to Grace tonight. She had tossed and turned in bed for two hours now, trying to get comfortable, but it was no use. She was wide awake and her mind was working overtime. Her thoughts drifted to Rigsby, alone on the too-small couch. He would probably get as little rest as she did. She had managed to avoid the talk he insisted they have but she didn't feel the least bit relieved. That was strange. Usually, she was glad when she didn't have to talk about what had happened. She wanted others to see the strong, independent, unconquerable woman she'd become during her CBI training, not the scared girl who was ready to burst into tears at all times. But that wasn't true for Rigsby, she suddenly realized. She wanted him to know her better, faults and all, and still care for her. Although that seemed impossible she knew he deserved a chance. If he failed the test, so be it. She was used to being let down after all, it wouldn't come as much of a surprise.<p>

Gathering all the courage she could muster she disentangled herself from the sheets her restless tossing had drawn about her and stepped out of the room. She would tell him now, before she lost her courage again. Her resolve was strong due to the fact that he had indeed gone through with not sharing her bed tonight. She had known all along that he wouldn't let her sleep on the couch but she had half-expected him to take her up on the offer of sharing the bed. His outright refusal had amazed her. Most men in their right mind would have relied on her statement that she'd be fine. But not Rigsby, stubborn, reliable, chivalrous Rigsby. A tender smile crept up on her lips as she reached the living room. He would probably be asleep. Should she really wake him? Grace felt her resolve waver as she padded into the room, nearing the couch. There he was, his tall frame outlined by the glow of a street lamp from outside. She couldn't see if he was sleeping and she didn't find the courage to wake him yet so she sat down on the floor, leaning her back against the couch, sighing softly. What she was about to do would indeed change their relationship for better or for worse and she was afraid it would be for worse. Rigsby had been right all along, accepting this assignment would have a huge impact on their partnership. Still, there was no going back. If she kept this from her partner she knew she would never be the same around him. She would question every glance, every word uttered in her direction, would feel threatened by his protective behaviour for she would feel the lurking question behind his actions, the unspoken _will she be able to hold it together or will she freak out this time?_ No, that just wouldn't do. She had to get it out in the open and hope for the best.

"Is something wrong, Grace?"

Rigsby's sleepy voice startled her, if only a little. She should have known he was so tuned in on her needs that he'd sense her discomfort even in his sleep. Shaking her head as an answer she suddenly realized he wouldn't see the gesture in the barely lid room.

"I'm alright.", she hastened to reassure him.

"Why do I find that hard to believe?", he asked. "Could it be that your roaming the apartment like a ghost in the middle of the night clued me in?"

Grace had to smile at his feeble attempt to lighten the heavy mood.

"I never knew you were so observant.", she quipped.

"You know, that's why they put the 'I' in CBI.", Rigsby deadpanned, making her giggle despite her still looming fear. He pushed himself upright and motioned for her to sit beside him, which she did somewhat hesitantly.

"Seriously, Grace, what's keeping you up?"

Unconsciously, she scooted closer, seeking out his body heat. He draped the blanket over her shoulders to keep the night's chill from her bare skin.

"Do you want something to drink? Tea, maybe?"

van Pelt wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Don't go all Jane on me, Wayne. I didn't come here for a drink, anyway." She trailed off.

"Then what brought you here?", he coaxed.

"I'm not quite sure myself, but I guess I need to talk."

The street lamp's faint glow illuminated Rigsby's smile. He looked so relieved that it almost broke her heart. Maybe he wouldn't be appalled by what she was going to say.

Grace pulled her legs up under her body and turned to face him.

"This is not easy for me, Wayne.", she began. "I've hardly ever talked about this and when I did I ended up heartbroken. The last person I told about my past turned it against me. I know you can't promise not to do that until after you've heard me out, but I'm asking you to try."

It was his turn to nod. If it hadn't been for his shadow on the wall she would have missed it.

"You scare me.", he admitted.

"Hardly as much as you scare me at the moment.", came her brutally honest answer.

Grace searched for the right words but realized there weren't any. So she decided to cut right to the chase.

"I'm scared around big, muscular men.", she blurted out, not sensing how ridiculous this sounded, sitting so close to the strongest man she had ever known. Rigsby noticed but didn't comment on the discrepancy. He felt that something earth-shattering was about to unfold and he worried he wouldn't like what he was going to hear.

Grace continued: "When I woke up this morning I couldn't move. I felt someone holding me and when they wouldn't let go I panicked. This tends to happen whenever I share a bed with someone who moves close to me. I'm fine when I sleep alone, most of the times anyway. I want to change that, I really do, but it seems impossible. This has nothing to do with not trusting you.", she assured quickly.

"I know.", was his reply. He didn't sound upset so far, just calm and slightly worried.

"What you experienced this morning was a flashback. You were spaced out and you didn't know who was with you. I didn't take that personally, I was worried."

"Right.", she murmured absent-mindedly. "You're probably wondering where I was at that time." Now that she was getting close to the problem her voice began to quiver. Rigsby couldn't keep still any more as his arms ached to hold and comfort her. He gathered her in a lose embrace, half expecting her to pull away, but she didn't. Instead, her head fell to his shoulder, thus avoiding eye contact. Grace drew a shaky breath, then went on: "There was a man... We were together, and I loved him, or at least I believed I did at that time. He was nice, really. Everybody liked him, my friends and family told me how lucky I was to have him." Alarmed, Rigsby noticed the bitter tone in her last statement. His arms tightened around her unknowingly, holding her close, shielding her against the memories. Somehow he knew that Mr. Perfect wouldn't be so wonderful when her story ended.

"Well, there was one thing about him that I didn't care for.", Grace admitted. "He was very sure of himself, knew what he wanted. I liked that at first, but then I discovered he could be downright dominant when he didn't get his way. Most of the times I obeyed him because it didn't matter much to me. I was young, easily impressed and so very stupid."

Rigsby cut her off: "Don't say that, Grace. You were in love, willing to compromise, but never stupid. You're one of the most intelligent people I've ever met, even including our formidable boss. Don't ever think you're stupid.", he repeated firmly. van Pelt gave a bitter laugh.

"Wait till you've heard it all. You might change your mind. Well, this man and I lived together when I went to university. As I said, I usually put up with his moods for most of the times he was nice enough. Then there was one day when I came home totally exhausted. I'd had a long day, preparing for a written exam with some friends and doing my part-time job. I worked at a stationary shop back then. I came home and wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for ten hours straight. He had other plans, though. As soon as I had gone to bed he joined me and started to touch me. I told him I was too tired right now and that I'd make it up to him the next day, but he wouldn't stop. He insisted I would like it, as I always did. Of course he was right, I usually enjoyed sleeping with him, but that night I wasn't in the mood. When he continued to grope me I slapped his hand away and turned from him. That's when he became furious. He grabbed me, pinned me to the mattress and told me he'd had enough of my bitching. I got scared, started to fight him in earnest but it was no use. He was so much stronger than me and he was heavy. That's when he..." Grace couldn't bring herself to say the word.

"He raped you." Wayne's voice was flat, still she could sense the anger and pain he was trying to hide.

"Yes.", she confirmed. "When he was done he acted as if nothing had happened. He just turned around and slept. I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up, and I cried so hard." Her voice broke for a moment, then she continued. "The next day, he still didn't acknowledge what had happened. He was his usual nice, caring self and I fooled myself thinking it was only a misunderstanding, that it was okay, we were together so it was natural to sleep with him. I didn't leave him. Then it happened again. I let him do this to me three more times before I finally managed to break up with him. He didn't want to accept the break-up, though, pressed me to come back to him. He told everybody that I had broken his heart, that I was a cold bitch. Most of our mutual friends believed him. I lost so many friends over this, and most of all I lost my trust in men." The last words came out in a whisper so shallow that Rigsby almost missed them. Slowly, as if afraid to startle her, he moved his hand to her head and stroked her hair. He was furious. How dare that unknown bastard do this to gentle, trusting Grace? How could he betray her trust, rob her of her faith, reduce the usually strong, confident woman to a broken girl who now sobbed into his chest? He swore to himself then that if he ever got his hands on that scumbag he would strangle him. Right now, though, there were more pressing matters at hand. He continued to stroke Grace's hair, held her and told her over and over that it was alright, even though she didn't seem to believe him if her crying was anything to go by.

When she had calmed down a little he tipped her face up so she had to look at him. In the barely lit room it was hard to read her eyes but he had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate him turning on the light. So he brought his face closer to hers and looked into her eyes as best as he could.

"I'm so sorry.", he whispered. "I know that it must be hard for you to talk about it and I'm honoured that you trust me enough to share this with me. I swear I won't hold it against you. I don't even know how you could believe I'd do something like that. What that bastard did to you wasn't your fault at all as I'm sure you know."

"I knew you'd look at me differently now. You think I'm weak, that you have to pity me, right?", Grace asked bitterly. "I understand if you don't want to work with me anymore, you'll never know if I'll have a flashback in the middle of an operation."

"Will you stop that?", he demanded, annoyed that she'd gotten him so wrong.

"If I see you in a different light now then only because I'm amazed at how strong you are. You went through Hell in your relationship with that scumbag and still you managed to go on. You made it into the CBI where you deal with violence on a daily basis and you do great. I've always envied you for the ability to see the good in everybody you encounter unless they prove otherwise. Now that I know how badly your trust was abused I'm even more amazed by your faith in people. I'm your friend, Grace van Pelt, and that won't change because of some domineering bastard who abused you in the past. Do you get that?", he pressed.

Taken aback by the intensity of his words, Grace could only nod. "Thank you.", she murmured, her face once again buried into Wayne's shirt where she couldn't see his face but revel in his warmth. She had to admit she liked being so close to him, despite her bad experience with an overpowering man. Wayne was so very different, she saw that now more clearly than ever before. The way he held her, tender, caring, made her feel safe and cherished. He would indeed stay true to her, she realized with a surge of relief. Grace couldn't help herself, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him so tightly that she thought she could feel his ribs groaning in protest. Chuckling softly, Rigsby tightened his own embrace in return, squeezing her to him tightly.

After a moment Grace pulled back to look at him once again.

"Would you do me a favour?", she queried softly.

"Anything.", he stated simply and she instantly knew the truth behind his words. He would indeed do anything for her, no matter what she asked of him. That scared her a little, but she decided not to dwell on the implications right now.

"Come to bed with me?", she asked instead, revelling in the wonder she saw on his face. Wayne started to shake his head but she cut him off: "I'm sure. I won't be able to fall asleep on my own tonight, not after reliving the darkest time of my life. I want you to hold me till I sleep. Can you do that for me?"

How could he refuse her? There simply was no way, so he agreed. "Of course I can do that. But what if my presence triggers another nightmare?"

"We'll see what happens. If I panic you can always release me, right? Unless you're afraid of another punch, that is.", she challenged, knowing fully well that he wouldn't back down on that. Rigsby grinned. "Never let it be said I'm afraid of a girl's punch. Unless, of course, the girl in question is the boss." He faked a shudder before getting to his feet and taking Grace's hand to pull her with him. "Let's go get some sleep."

She followed him willingly, suddenly confident that they would be fine. Maybe Wayne Rigsby would be the first person who knew about her past and still stuck by her. With him, it was possible.

* * *

><p>When they had settled down in bed Grace instantly scooted close to Wayne and put her head on his chest. His arm sneaked around her without hesitation, drawing her even closer.<p>

"I'm glad you haven't turned your back on me just yet.", she admitted shyly, causing her partner to frown. "I thought I'd made it clear that I won't turn my back on you, period.", he told her, putting his other arm around her in emphasis, making her feel so very safe.

"I hope you don't mind holding me to keep my demons away."

_Oh Grace,_ he thought. _Don't you know that I would die for a chance to be this close to you? How can you think I'd mind?_

What he said was different, though: "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm quite comfortable."

Sighing contentedly, the redhead buried her face in the crook of his neck, once again seeking comfort in his presence, and closed her eyes. Now that she had taken the leap of faith and confided in Wayne she felt drained. It was hard to keep her eyes open and all of a sudden sleep didn't seem so threatening any more. Wayne could always wake her if she had another nightmare, right? Feeling more protected than she had in years, the slender agent drifted off to sleep, her partner not far behind.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry it took me so long to update; it's been a crazy week. As always, thank you for your reviews, they keep me going.**

**Special thanks go to wldwmn again for putting up with my "German" mistakes and for correcting the chapter in light-speed. **

**The ankle-biters a her reward for she not only introduced me to the English term for small dogs but also brought up the idea of tall Rigsby flooded by tiny dogs. Thank you!  
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* * *

><p>Rigsby woke to the sound of a cell phone beeping to announce a text message. It wasn't his phone, though, so he decided to ignore it. Snuggling back into the covers he wondered idly if Grace had heard the beeping, too, and if it had woken her. As he felt her stir in his arms he was instantly alert lest he miss any attempt at freeing herself. She stiffened for a brief moment, not sure where she was at first.<p>

"Hey there. Don't worry, it's me.", he said softly, helping her to come back to the here and now.

"Hmmmwassup?" she mumbled against his neck, snuggling impossibly closer. Rigsby surpressed a shiver at the feel of her lips moving against his skin.

"Someone sent you a text.", he explained, his voice slightly more hoarse than usual although he hoped she'd blame it on the early hour. Still not moving, her lips tickled his skin some more as she asked: "Who?"

"I don't know. Why don't you check your phone?"

"Nah. Don't wanna move. It's too bright." she protested, making him smile. Obviously Grace wasn't much of a morning person. Could she be any more adorable? She was absolutely right, though, it didn't matter who had the nerve to disturb their slumber. Whoever it was, they could wait. Right now it was much nicer to dwell in the feeling of Grace's pliant body in his arms. Like the night before, they had managed to entangle their limbs completely, making Rigsby wonder if their perfect fit was supposed to be a sign of some sorts. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and something else that was pure Grace. She must have felt his nose in her hair for she began to giggle softly and asked: "Are you sniffing me?"

Rigsby blushed, grateful that she couldn't see his face right now. How could he get out of this without embarrassing himself further? His partner saved him, as she was supposed to do in every other aspect of their relationship. She murmured, somethat shyly: "That's okay, you know. I think you smell nice, too.", then nuzzled his neck for emphasis before drifting back to sleep. Unfortunately he couldn't let her doze off, as much as he would have enjoyed staying in bed with her all day even if they did nothing but cuddle and sleep. Still, duty was calling. Plus, if he didn't leave this bed soon, he might do something they both would regret later. Rigsby ran his fingers through her hair to get her attention.

"Grace, as wonderful as it would be to sleep through the day we have work to do. Why don't you check your phone and find out who texted you?"

"Why don't you check it for me?", she countered, reluctantly disentangling herself from him and rolling onto her back, one arm thrown across her face to shield her tired eyes from the sunlight seeping through the blinds. Sighing indulgently he leaned over her to grab her phone from the nightstand. The display glowed softly, announcing there was one new text from 'Uncle Patrick'.

"It's from Jane.", he sighed, dropping the phone onto her stomach.

"What does he think texting in the wee hours of the morning?" van Pelt groaned, clearly not impressed.

"He probably had a fight with the boss and wants to complain."

"Doubtful. It's much too early to be fighting with the boss. She doesn't talk to him before she's had at least two cups of coffee."

Grace finally opened her eyes, grabbing the phone and reading the text. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Intrigued, Wayne leaned over her to try and read the message but she snatched her phone away.

"Will you stop that? Go get your own text."

He pouted, causing her to give in and hand the phone over. How he did that was beyond her, for she usually didn't fall for the puppy eyes treatment.

Rigsby read the message that was still open on the screen.

_Good morning, sunshine of my life,_ it said. _Have a nice day, keep W. well-fed and don't get bitten. We miss having you around. X PJ_

Frowning, Rigsby cast Grace a curious glance. "What does he think he's doing flirting with my girl?", he teased.

"He's probably bored and wants to yank our chain." She shrugged. "What intrigues me, though, is him saying they miss me. It's not like Jane to say something like that."

"Of course they miss you.", Rigsby told her.

"Without you around there's no one to spread joy all over the office. Can you imagine Cho walk in, smiling at everybody?"

She snorted. "I hardly 'spread joy' all the time for I mostly hide from the boss when Jane has managed to piss her off again."

Smiling, he shook his head at that. "As much as I hate to admit it Jane's right. You are the heart of our team so it's only natural they'd miss you."

She had been about to answer but found herself suddenly speechless at his sweet statement. He had called her the heart of their team once before. They had been on the receiving end of one of Lisbon's infamous tantrums over some mundane mistake they'd made. Grace had been close to tears, Cho was his usual stoic self and Rigsby had tried to make her feel better by saying she was far from useless for she was the heart of their team. She'd asked what that made of the others.

"That's easy.", he had told her. "Cho is the brain, always reading and learning, devoid of emotion. Lisbon's the muscle, and Jane... well, he must be the appendix. You hardly know why it's there but it gives you a funny feeling every now and then."

By then she had giggled, her previous sorrow all but forgotten, and even Cho had cracked a rare smile.

Reminiscing the scene now Grace suddenly realized Wayne had never told them his place in the metaphor. She envisioned him as the skeleton. A strong backbone to keep them all upright, bones to hold them together. She could easily picture him as the ribcage as well, strong and sturdy, always silently protecting the heart in an eternal embrace, keeping it safe but never stifling it.

For a moment Grace lay in silence, imagining moving in Wayne's arms, safe, protected, beating steadily to keep their unit alive. Her own pulse quickened at the thought and she hoped he didn't notice the flush that she was sure must be creeping up her neck right now.

Rigsby, however, was still playing with her cell phone, puzzling over Jane's message.

"What are you going to answer?", he asked offhandedly.

She shrugged, her reverie broken.

"I don't know. Why don't you text back? I'm going to take a shower."

"Sure. What do you want me to write?"

"Suit yourself. Just don't embarrass me."

She got up and started rummaging through the closet for fresh underwear, oblivious to the fact that Rigsby was concentrating on her bare legs rather than on a suitable answer for Jane.

"So, what did you tell him?", she asked over her shoulder.

"Huh?" Rigsby was at a loss for words for a second, caught red-handed ogling his not-so-secret love interest.

"I said what did you tell Jane?", she repeated. He bit his lip sheepishly as he thumbed in the text, murmuring under his breath. When he was done he read aloud: _What R U doing flirting with my woman? Don't you have your hands full with aunt Teresa? Go woo her and leave my girl in peace. W _

Obviously he had found just the right words for he was rewarded with Grace's melodic laughter trailing behind her when she finally left the room.

* * *

><p>Their arrival at the shelter was uneventful except for Rigsby being knocked off his feet by a huge, friendly dog leaping against his chest to greet him properly. Doubled over with laughter van Pelt shoved the bundle of flailing limbs and lapping tongue off her partner, chiding gleefully: "Steady there, Romeo. If someone gets to kiss him with their tongue it's gonna be me, understood?"<p>

Not quite believing his ears Rigsby was too shocked to get up so she offered him her hand. Taking it, he scrambled to his feet, trying in vain to fend off the furry tornado that threatened to attack him again.

"What did you do? Change your aftershave to bacon flavour?", Trish Wallace called across the yard as Rigsby brushed dust and grass from his jeans.

Grace, whose face had just gotten a thorough washing as well, called back playfully: "You know, Trish, the poor dog couldn't help himself. Wayne's just irresistable." With a smack to his chest for emphasis she turned her back on the man in question to properly greet Trish and get today's task list.

* * *

><p>The first task assinged to Wayne and Grace seemed easy enough. They were to baby-sit a bunch of youngster dogs at the age of 14 weeks.<p>

"They're terriers.", Trish had explained. "A garbageman found them in a sealed cardboard box next to the trash cans behind a restaurant and brought them here. They're above the age of needing a nurse but they need to get accustomed to strangers and have to see new things as much as possible. If we don't train them now they'll grow up to be scaredy-cats." She'd equipped them with a box of toys and treats and sent them to what Rigsby soon found out to be the lion's den. van Pelt squealed with delight as they entered a room full of black-and-white puppies. They were everywhere. Trish had said there were only six of them but Rigsby could have sworn they were spawning by the second. He had to admit they were cute, though, with their tiny ears and huge brown eyes. Suddenly the words "puppy eyes" had a whole new meaning to him.

His fake-girlfriend had an expression similar to the dogs' as she sat on the floor cross-legged, flooded by puppies at once. They climbed on her lap, jumped over her crossed legs, yapping and squeaking like a bunch af mice. A particularly bold one managed to crawl under the hem of her shirt and licked her bare stomach, causing her to yelp in surprise. Oh, how he envied the little fur ball at that moment!

Not quite comfortable with the tiny, crawling creatures he leaned against the wall, not daring to move his feet lest he step on a dog and squish it. He watched admiringly as van Pelt slipped into mother mode, petting and cuddling, tickling and playing, all the while laughing softly, her eyes shining with happiness. She was a sight to behold, Rigsby thought, with her flaming hair falling out of her bun in every direction, cheeks flushed from joy and exertion as she fought a losing battle against the onslaught of all six (or six dozen) puppies demanding her attention.

If he hadn't already been madly in love with her, he knew he would have fallen this exact moment. He wanted to curl up at her feet and beg her to scratch his hair, to look at him with the same adoration she had for the bunch of dogs surrounding her.

A tugging sensation at his right foot broke his musings. As he glanced down he noticed two little gremlins playing tug-of-war with his shoelace.

Following his gaze, van Pelt smiled even more broadly, a gleeful twinkle in her eyes.

"Come, sit with me.", she offered, motioning at the puppy-covered floor.

"I'm quite comfortable standing up.", he stalled.

"What? Are you scared of these adorable babies?", she teased lightly. Rigsby's almost sheepish half-smile warmed her from within. To her, he was just as cute as the puppies she was currently cuddling. Not that she'd ever admit that to anyone.

"I'm afraid I'll hurt them.", he confessed. "They're so fragile." he added by way of explanation.

Brushing two protesting dogs off her legs she got to her feet, grabbing his arm to steady herself as one of the pups squeezed under her shoe, doing its best to trip her. Then she bent over, picked up one squealing bundle of energy and held it to her partner. The little terrier protested fiercely, making small, squeaking sounds that would probably be growls when he grew up, trying to wriggle free from her grip. "Does he look like you could break him?", she asked gently, deeply touched by Wayne's concern but nevertheless determined to help him get over his discomfort.

"Not particularly.", he had to admit. "Still, they're so tiny."

"As are their teeth, but look what damage they do." She offered him her hand that by now was covered in skin-deep scratches and bites. "Believe me, you won't hurt them. Much on the contrary, I assume. Come on, it's fun.", Grace added encouragingly, taking his hand and pulling him with her to the middle of the room. To his surprise none of the puppies got squished under his soles as they all scrambled to safety in time. True to her name, Grace sashayed to the floor most gracefully, pulling his not-so-graceful self with her. As soon as they were both seated she dropped the mini terrier she had been holding into his lap, grabbing another one to amuse herself with. The two dogs' siblings attacked from every direction, crawling up his legs, doing somersaults on his lap or trying to remove his shoes with their tiny, annoyingly sharp, teeth. The one currently in his lap tried to gnaw its way through the flesh of his hand to reach the bone. With a kind of morbid fascination he didn't quite understand Rigsby watched the massacre without intervening. What was he supposed to do anyway? The little man-eater was much too small to handle roughly and it didn't listen to Wayne's kind, but stern, reprimants.

Finally, his partner came to the rescue. Without much ado she plucked Wayne's hand from the needle-sharp teeth, held the dog to her face and scowled at it, still managing to look too adorable for her own good. "No," she chided. "You can't eat people, you little monster. They're your friends, not your snack." With that, she handed the unfazed puppy back to Rigsby, along with a small stick that reminded him distinctly of beef jerky.

"If he tries to eat you again, tell him no and give him this.", she instructed. "You can't just let them do whatever they want with you no matter how cute they are. They have to learn that's no way of treating humans. It's part of their education, and you're their teacher right now." She grinned, rubbing another dog's belly absent-mindedly.

"Won't it hurt him if I pull my hand out of his mouth?", Wayne asked.

"No. He will protest but that's just the way they learn. Don't let yourself be fooled by their cute looks, they're little rogues."

"Speaking from experience?", he asked before he could stop himself. "Being a cute rogue, I mean."

She blushed furiously, bringing a puppy up to her face to cover the colour flooding her cheeks. The dog licked her nose, coaxing the smile back to her lips.

"I don't do cute.", she objected. "It's not in my job description."

"You can't help it anyway. It's in your nature.", he insisted, loving the way her face turned an even darker shade of crimson. She was even more cute when she was embarrassed, but Rigsby wasn't about to tell her that.

Modestly brushing off his comment van Pelt lowered her dog-shield back to her lap where it curled up in a tiny ball, falling asleep immediately. All around them, the other puppies followed suit, one by one nodding off right where they were standing, until the room was finally quiet.

"Looks like we've worn them out.", Rigsby whispered. Smiling tenderly, van Pelt nodded, gently taking the sleeping terrier from her lap and placing it on a pillow. Then she quickly cleaned away the toys before motioning for her partner to follow her out of the room. At the door, she turned to look at the tiny black-and-white dots sleeping everywhere. Her eyes had a heart-warming glow in them as she turned to Rigsby. He smiled reassuringly and put his hand on her forearm. "They look so peaceful. It's hard to imagine they're going to morph into that gang of gremlins as soon as they wake up.", he quipped, coaxing a grin to his partner's lips. She closed the door resolutely before storing away the box of toys. Rigsby, in the meantime, had crouched down to re-tie his shoelaces. Suddenly he snorted, making her look at him questioningly. He pulled the leg of his jeans up a little to reveal what was left of his sock. It resembled a sieve, torn and bitten, covered in little holes, threads hanging out at every direction.

"Now I know why they call them 'ankle-biters'.", he told her. "Do you think the CBI would let me write it off as an expense?" Shaking her head, she made her way out of the building to find Trish. "You can always try but somehow I have a feeling the boss would rip more than your socks if you ask her that."


	7. Chapter 7

After the terrier puppy interlude Rigsby and van Pelt had a cup of coffee with a few of their fellow volunteers. They soon discovered there was no regular break; people flitted in and out of the kitchen/office all the time, some grabbing stuff from their bags, others re-filling their pockets with dog or cat treats from two huge boxes placed in a corner of the messy-but-cozy room. Even though most of the others hadn't met the pair the day before they all gave them a friendly smile, a wave or a warm 'Hi'.

Those who could spare a few minutes joined Wayne and Grace at the table, helping themselves to cups of strong coffee from the bottomless pot on the sink.

Whereas all the bustle made Rigsby slightly nervous van Pelt blended in easily, exchanging small talk left and right and politely joining in on any conversation that peaked her interest. She had obviously done that before. Rigsby wondered if the atmosphere was similar to the one in 'her' shelter back at Sacramento.

When they had drained their cups and were ready to go and do whatever Trish had in store for them, the door flew open and a whirlwind of a girl came in.

She was about eighteen, her face all pleasant smiles and covered in freckles, brown hair bouncing in curls around her heart-shaped features.

"Hi! You're new, right? Trish has told me there were new volunteers around. I'm Lynn."

They shook hands as they introduced themselves, deciding to stay for a few more minutes as the lively girl seemed intent on talking to them. Maybe some insight could be gained from the conversation.

Lynn addressed Grace first: "So, Trish says you're good with dogs?"

The redhead shrugged modestly.

"I guess you could say that. We just hit it off somehow."

Smiling broadly, the girl nodded. "I know what you mean though I must admit I don't understand dogs at all. They're nice enough but we don't seem to speak the same language. Cats are different, they warm to me instantly. I guess it's the same with you and the dogs."

She turned to face Rigsby. "What about you, Wayne? Cat person or dog person?", she inquired, getting a shrug in return.

"I'm not quite sure about that. Haven't given the matter much thought to be honest. Being with Grace, I should do my best to become a dog person, though."

Smiling, the woman in question took his hand where it lay on the table.

"Don't worry about that, babe. If you turn out to be a cat person I won't mind adopting a few cats for you in addition to my future dog."

He turned his palm so he could lace his fingers through hers and replied fondly: "Knowing you, we'll end up fostering a small zoo anyway, so don't mind my taste in pets."

Beaming brightly, Lynn followed their banter before speaking up again.

"Are you guys coming to the protest march on Sunday?"

Exchanging quick glances, the agents shrugged. van Pelt replied: " There's a protest march on Sunday? We haven't heard about that, have we?"

She looked at Rigsby for confirmation.

He shook his head. "That's probably because we're fairly new to this area. We don't know any animal welfare activists in L.A. yet."

"You do now.", Lynn countered.

"If you're free on Sunday make sure to join us. We're going to protest against this new research facility. They're still using dogs and monkeys to test their cosmetics even though recent research has proven that there's nothing to be gained from those tests. Dogs' and monkeys' bodies are much too different from ours for these tests to be useful.

We're going to meet up at ten, the actual march starts half an hour later and will last for about two hours, ending in front of the city hall where speeches will be held. There'll even be food booths, for some members of the committee planning the whole thing are big in the industry. Of course they sell eco-friendly products only."

"That sounds great.", Grace interrupted. "We're going to come, aren't we, Wayne?"

He nodded, sensing that the march might get them deeper into the scene than they had hoped after just a few days on the assignment.

"Of course we'll join you, Lynn. Could you give us directions? Remember, we're not familiar with the area."

Smiling eagerly, Lynn grabbed paper and pencil from the desk and began jotting down details about the march, adding her phone number at the bottom.

"Call me if you need to know anything else. I'm glad you're coming. The more people join us the better we'll be heard."

She smiled once more before heading for the door. "Sorry to leave you, but I have to take a few kittens to the vet's. See you guys around."

With that she breezed out of the room as quickly as she had entered.

van Pelt leaned close to her partner, her lips brushing his ear and causing him to shiver as she whispered excitedly: "Do you think we're getting somewhere?"

Suppressing a smile at her enthusiasm, Rigsby whispered back: "It's a start."

Her grin lit up the whole room and probably half the yard as she skipped out the door, followed by Rigsby who muttered to himself: "Rookies..."

* * *

><p>After things had gone so well with Lex the other day Trish assigned Wayne and Grace to another walk with the little dog.<p>

He didn't seem as timid as he had before, he even wagged his tail once when Grace walked into his kennel to fasten a leash to his collar. They took off, walking the same path they had taken the day before but at a much slower pace. Today, the small dog was actually interested in his surroundings, sniffing here and there, even lifting his leg once in a while.

Rigsby kept silent as he remembered being brushed off by Grace on their last walk. He wasn't put off by her, though, as he was beginning to understand the way she acted when working with dogs. Just as in every other aspect of her professional life she focused on the task at hand and blanked out everything that didn't matter at the moment. Such as his voice. He secretly wondered if that was also the reason she got along so well with Jane. It certainly couldn't hurt to be able to totally ignore his ranting from time to time.

When they reached a clearing they had passed on their previous walk van Pelt called out to Lex, beckoning him to follow her onto the grass where she sat down. Rigsby followed suit a few feet away as not to interrupt whatever she had in mind for today's training. He could have felt left out but instead he chose to watch quietly and enjoy being with the woman he adored so much.

She did nothing at first, just sat in silence, holding the leash in one hand while the other played with blades of grass. Still he could tell she was totally tuned in on Lex.

The small dog was obviously not sure what was expected from him. He tried to move along, straining against the leash in a futile attempt to get away from the humans. When he realized it was no use he started to whimper softly, still getting no reaction from Grace.

After a while he fell silent once again and started sniffing the ground tentatively, taking a few steps to follow a particularly interesting scent but never straying too far from Grace's side.

Wayne watched from the corner of his eye as she smiled softly, still not visibly accnowledging Lex's presence.

It took Rigsby a few moments to realize she was humming under her breath, a soft, slow tune that was slightly familiar though he didn't quite recognize it yet. He wasn't even sure if she nociced she was doing it but found it incredibly sweet.

Lex seemed to agree for he cocked his head and observed her for a second, then he cautiously padded towards her hand that was now lying on the ground, motionless.

Gingerly sniffing it, he lowered himself to the grass, his neck brushing her fingers. Rigsby held his breath as she flexed her fingers a little, stroking the dog's shoulder with a barely-there touch. Unlike her partner she seemed totally calm despite the enormity of the moment. Her fingers caressed the short fur in slow motion until, after what felt like an eternity, Lex sighed and all tension left his small body.

van Pelt continued her ministrations of his side when he suddenly decided that wasn't enough any more. He turned on his back to present his belly with a look that seemed to yell _'What are you waiting for?_

Without hesitation Grace placed her hand on his stomach and began to rub slow circles on his fur, still humming softly.

The ice was broken. Lex kicked his feet in the air and wriggled around under Grace's hand, groaning and sighing in delight.

She beamed with happiness as she stroked the dog, cooing softly.

"That's my boy.", she encouraged him. "See, it's alright to let go, I've got you."

They spent a few minutes like that, Lex enjoying Grace's attention and Wayne envying the annoyingly cute dog for receiving it.

Suddenly Lex leaped to his feet, climbed onto Grace's lap and strained up to lick her face. Laughing, she bent forward so he could reach, making Rigsby wonder why she was allowed to receive kisses that involved a tongue when he wasn't.

"Looks like we'll become friends after all.", Grace stated as Lex retreated and curled up in her lap again, presenting various parts of his body to be petted. She gladly obeyed.

Rigsby could see a certain spark in her eyes and he suddenly realized she might be falling in love with the poor, abandoned dog.

He would never have thought that he'd actually enjoy the sight of her falling for anyone other than him but here he was, loving every minute of her carefree interaction with Lex who was obviously becoming her biggest fan.

The shrill ringing of a cell phone burst their peaceful bubble. Lex froze for a second but as Grace continued to scratch his ears he relaxed back into her lap.

She dug the offending phone out of her pocket and tossed it to Rigsby, motioning for him to answer it as she had her hands full with Lex.

Wayne glanced at the screen, then pressed 'connect' and asked curtly: "What do you want, Jane?"

At the mention of their consultant van Pelt perked up. She tried to catch Jane's end of the conversation but it was no use.

"What does he want?", she mouthed at Rigsby who shrugged, then whispered back: "The boss wants to know if we've made progress yet and it seems he's been bothering her all day so she has let him make the call."

He listened again, frowning. Then: "That's really none of your business, Jane, but I'll tell you anyway. She's not answering her phone because she's busy."

Naturally, Patrick Jane wasn't satisfied with only half of the information he desired. van Pelt assumed he was bugging Rigsby what kept her from talking to him. Her partner's next words confirmed her suspicions.

"She's neither sleeping nor is she taking a shower. If you really must know, she's currently flirting with a nice guy who seems to have developed a crush on her."

Grace pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. Rigsby certainly could be cruel at times, not that she didn't enjoy him pulling Jane's leg.

He went on: "Yeah, he's quite handsome, sandy hair, big, brown eyes. She must be falling for him, and fast, because she's already let him kiss her."

Shaking with silent laughter, van Pelt stared at Rigsby, wondering what on earth he was thinking.

Suddenly he held the phone at arm's length, a pained expression on his face. She soon found out the reason for his actions as she heard their boss yelling through the line: "What the hell is she thinking flirting with other guys? She's supposed to pose as your spouse, not hooking up with the next best man that comes her way. I really thought she was more professional than that!"

Eyes widening in silent horror Grace realized that Jane had blabbed everything Rigsby had just said to Lisbon. _Damn him if I ever get my hands on that bastard!_, she thought angrily, still listening in on what was going on at the other end of the line as Rigsby had moved closer to her so they could both follow the thunderstorm that was obviously breaking lose back at the HQ. Jane's voice was full of elation as he tried to keep Lisbon from exploding, and Grace could have sworn he was grinning from ear to ear.

"Lisbon, dear, I doubt that van Pelt has thrown herself at the next best man. She's got too much class for that. Besides, if it were as Rigsby has said he wouldn't be so calm about it. I'd say he would be crying his eyes out by now if she had as much as looked at another guy. As he was totally relaxed when I talked to him I'm assuming he was just trying to outsmart me. My guess is that he was talking about his charming partner putting a spell on some poor, homeless dog. Am I not right, Rigsby?", he addressed the agent directly.

Sighing, Wayne confirmed his suspicions, once again wishing the nosy consultant would just stay out of their business. He guessed from a thumping noise on Lisbon's end that she had thrown something at Jane, hopefully shooing him out of her office.

"I'm sorry, Boss.", he said ruefully into the phone.

"I should have been more professional but Jane was asking for it when he wanted to know if I had worn Grace out so that she was sleeping instead of answering her phone."

"He did WHAT?", Lisbon raged. "I swear to God I'm gonna kill him one of these days! Did you learn anything so far?"

"We may be getting somewhere as we've been invited to a protest march that's scheduled on Sunday. Hopefully we'll meet some of the more militant activists there."

"All right, good job, you two. Keep it up. Oh, and Rigsby? If Jane calls you again, don't talk to him. From now on he's officially out of this for he's obviously unable to be mature about the whole situation."

She hung up, leaving van Pelt and Rigsby speechless. They just stared at each other for a moment, then both of them burst into laughter.

"Can you believe the man?", van Pelt gasped. "What do you think she's gonna do with him?"

"I don't care as long as it's painful.", Rigsby replied. "We're probably going to see it on the news tonight."

Still grinning they got to their feet and made their way back to the shelter, a decidedly happy Lex in tow.

* * *

><p>The afternoon went by quickly as there seemed to be enough work to keep them busy for a month on end. Grace had gotten to take her dog-whispering abilities to another test as she trained an impossibly huge German Shepherd who didn't even know the most essential commands. In the end she'd at least taught him to sit on her word as she had proudly announced to her partner. Rigsby, on the other hand, had mowed the lawn behind the house. When they were done for the day they met at their car. Rigsby was sweaty, blades of grass sticking to his skin. He knew he looked a mess himself, but when he laid his eyes on van Pelt he couldn't suppress a grin.<p>

Her jeans bore an impressive pattern of dusty dogs' footprints matching those on her shirt. The bun she'd tied her hair into in the morning was long gone, replaced by a messy ponytail that looked as if a tornado had amused itself with the strands. A few stray hairs had attached themselves to her sweaty face, and on her right cheek there was a smudge of dirt.

"What?", she asked indignantly at his amused face.

"You are such a mess.", he teased.

"Says the man whose limbs have sprouted grass.", she shot back, grinning from ear to ear.

"You'll start growing weeds yourself soon enough if you don't clean up.", he answered, reaching out to wipe the offending dirt from her face.

She held her breath for a moment, enjoying his gentle touch before she started plucking blades of grass from his hair.

"We should head home.", she stated. "You're in dire need of a shower, and I could use one myself."

Stealing the keys from his pocket while she rid him of the remaining grass she added: "I'll go first."

"We could always share, dear.", he leered, momentarily shocking her with his unfamiliar boldness, but then she spotted one of their co-workers making his way to his car, passing them. She smiled in relief. He had just acted his part as her boyfriend, not really made a pass on her in a way that was a little too assuming for her taste.

She played along, slapping his shoulder lightly.

"If you think you're getting near me dirty like this you're sorely mistaken, mister!", she teased, getting in the car before he had a chance to reply.

* * *

><p>When she had sent their daily report to Lisbon van Pelt flopped down on the couch, deciding she was done for the day. No more browsing the web, no more catching up on modern ways of dog-training, no more anything. She channel-surfed for some time, barely looking up when she felt Rigsby lower himself to the cushions next to her. It was only when he nudged her with his elbow that she cast a glance at him, noticing at once the steaming mug he offered her. Sniffing the air she moaned appreciatively, snatching the mug from him and taking a cautious sip of the most delicious hot chocolate she'd ever tasted.<p>

"Thanks," she murmured gratefully, offering him the remote as some kind of reward. He grabbed it and began flipping through the channels himself.

"If you start scratching my ear and tell me 'good boy' I'm going to hurt you.", he threatened good-naturedly, making her giggle. He decided he loved that sound. It would be nice to hear it more often. He would make sure to make her laugh as much as possible during the assignment so he could store away each and every moment of happiness for lonely nights to come.

Taking a chance, he moved closer to Grace and carefully draped his arm around her shoulder, not bothering to fool her with a fake yawn and stretch. She was far too smart to fall for that kind of cheap trick. Surprisingly, she didn't seem to object, instead resting her head on his shoulder while she sipped her cocoa and watched the action on the screen. Rigsby had finally opted for a well-known crime show for lack of better options. They watched in companionable silence, every once in a while commenting on some stupid cliché displayed on screen.

"I always wonder how you ladies managed to run in heels like those.", he murmured as the female lead chased after a suspect in impossible high heeled pumps.

"It's not so hard.", Grace answered absent-mindedly, leaning forward to place her empty mug on the coffee table, then snuggling back into his side.

"It's only a matter of balance. I think it's much more implausible that they let her process crime scenes with her hair hanging around all over the place. While this may be fine for a cop it's impossible for a crime scene technician."

"That's all for the sex-appeal.", Wayne said. "Do you honestly think any man would watch that silly show if she had to wear scrubs and pin up her hair?"

She poked him in the ribs lazily. "So that's why we're watching this crap. You have a thing for the female lead.", she teased.

"Nah, you're wrong on that.", he defended himself. "There really wasn't anything better on. Besides, as you might know I'm not into blondes. She's too stupid for my taste anyway, though I must admit I'm intrigued by her ability to dress in white from head to toe and still manage not to stain her outfit while rummaging through garbage cans. Maybe she could teach me a thing or two about that. My laundry bill would go down a great deal."

"That's another easy one: They probably buy ten copies of the same outfit and change in their supermodern vans with unbreakable air conditioning. That's why the windows are tinted, didn't you know that?"

"Really? I always thought they were tinted so the team members could have hot, steamy sex in those vans."

Smirking, she quipped back: "You don't really believe they're allowed to have sex while on duty, do you? That would totally ruin their hair-do and thus their whole credibility as super-sexy investigators."

By then, Rigsby was roaring with laughter, jostling her quite a bit. She didn't care as she had already joined in on his mirth, clutching her sides and gasping for breath.

When they couldn't stand it any more, both agents collapsed on the couch bonelessly, suddenly realizing they had missed the second half of the show and had no idea who 'had done it'.

"Shall we call it a night, or do you feel inclined on watching another one of these?", van Pelt asked, motioning to the TV. He shook his head.

"I've had enough, though I must admit it's fun to watch them with you. Gives you a whole new insight and all. So...", he added, not quite sure how to broach the subject that needed to be addressed. "Where do you want me to..."

"Come to bed with me.", she interrupted. "I was fine this morning and I... kind of liked you cuddling me.", she shyly finished.

Grinning broadly Rigsby squeezed her to him once more.

"You know, you can always cuddle me when the urge hits you.", he said softly before getting to his feet and starting to clean away the left-overs from dinner.

"I know.", Grace murmured to herself, so quietly that he didn't hear her in the kitchen. "And that scares me to death."

* * *

><p>Half an hour later both agents were tucked in, the lights were turned off, and all of a sudden a deafening silence filled the room. Their easy banter of the previous day all but forgotten, they felt the weight of words unspoken, emotions barely felt before they were shoved back into the secret places of their souls. It was awkward to say the least, lying next to each other with all the empty space between them. Despite Grace's earlier request of being cuddled Rigsby didn't dare to bridge the gap and touch her, afraid the moment he did he wouldn't be able to stop.<p>

Another endless minute passed when Grace spoke up, her voice strangely unfamiliar in the total darkness.

"Wayne? Is something wrong?"

She sounded lost, lonely. It broke his heart when he realized she might misinterpret his reluctance to reach out to her.

"No, it's fine.", he replied, not sure if he believed it himself, much less made her believe.

"I'm sorry.", she whispered, still sounding like a frightened little girl. "I've made you uncomfortable when I asked you to hold me, haven't I?"

He breathed a sigh of relief. This he could deny in total honesty.

"You didn't. I like holding you, you must know that."

"Then why don't you? Hold me, I mean?"

"Well..." He couldn't tell her the truth this time. _Oh, I'm afraid that if I reach out and touch you I'll snap and ravish you here and now, and I'm not so sure you'd appreciate that sentiment._ Yeah, that would go down well.

She was waiting for an answer, so he gave her what he could without causing her to run screaming.

"I thought it was dangerous."

"How so?" He had peaked her curiosity for sure.

"Well, it's totally dark in here. What if I accidently grab some part of you that I shouldn't? You might hit me or press charges. As a guy I'm in permanent danger of one of these things happening. I can't take the risk.", he joked, hoping she'd let it go.

He had barely finished when she hit his chest. Hard.

"You idiot!", she scolded. "Are you aware that I was really worried there for a moment? You could have said something, you know, instead of making me lie here all by my miserable self thinking I'd said something inappropriate."

Rigsby rubbed the spot where her hand had connected, then was taken by surprise again when she flung herself over the empty space that had seemed to stretch on into eternity but was only a few inches wide now. She curled into him, much similar to the way she had sat with him while watching TV, her head resting on his chest. His arms wound around her instantly, holding her as close as he dared. She sighed contentedly as his hand found its way into her hair and moved slowly through the strands.

Again, van Pelt broke the silence.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, fire away.", he replied, wondering what it was she wanted to know at a moment like this.

She snuggled a little closer. "Okay, but don't laugh. I was wondering... isn't this... well, isn't it forbidden?" she asked, indicating their entwined bodies. "I always thought there was a rule saying that agents of the opposite sex weren't allowed to be in the same bedroom while on an assignment."

He chuckled softly, his fingers still threading through her hair. "It's a bit late to think about that now, isn't it? Considering we've been doing that for three nights now. But seriously, that stupid rule was established to protect female agents from being pursued by their male colleagues at a time when women were still thought of as the weak gender. Today, it's there to avoid sexual harrassment charges. Naturally, it doesn't apply to undercover operations. As long as we don't exchange body fluids we're within the boundaries.", he quipped.

"Damn!", she answered and he was fairly certain he could hear her pouting.

"Does that mean you can't be my blood brother?"

For the second time that night Grace van Pelt made her partner crack up with laughter. She really was something, Rigsby thought as he caught his breath again and closed his eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>Cyber cookies to anyone who figures out which show they're making fun of. ;-)<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long for an update. It turns out my connection to the internet decided to go on a Summer holiday, so I was pretty much cut off from the outside world. Now that I'm back, here's my 'happy to be back'-gift to anyone who's still with me. ;)**

* * *

><p>Day three of their assignment started rather unpleasantly with van Pelt's cell phone ringing on the bedside table. Groaning, she reached over her partner's broad chest to snatch it and answered with a short: "Yeah?"<p>

"van Pelt, sorry to wake you. There has been another murder last night. Check your mail for details.", Teresa Lisbon's voice boomed from the phone.

"All right, I'm at it."

Grace yawned and scrambled out of bed to boot up her computer. When it came to life Rigsby did the same, asking: "Grace? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

She desperately motioned for him to be quiet, but it was too late.

"Would you kindly explain what Agent Rigsby is doing in your bedroom at six-thirty in the morning?", their ever-observant boss inquired sternly. Blinking hard to clear the cobwebs from her head van Pelt struggled for an explanation, finally settling on the truth.

"He's pretending to be my boyfriend.", she said simply, opening Outlook to get her mails.

"Very funny, agent.", Lisbon snapped. "I do hope you two know that appropriate behaviour is required of fellow agents at all times. Anyway, I have to go now. Anything of relevance is included in the mail I sent. Keep in touch."

"Yes, Ma'am.", van Pelt answered to the silent line. Their boss had already hung up.

"What the hell was that?", Rigsby asked. He sat upright, rubbing his eyes. His hair, spiky on good days, looked like a hedgehog had run into a tornado, sticking up in all directions. Softened from sleep, he reminded Grace of a big, nice teddy bear. Still, she wanted to tell him off for the snapping she'd gotten from Lisbon on his account.

"You got us into trouble, that's what it was.", she chided, though without venom while quickly scanning the e-mail that popped up on the screen.

"That was Lisbon on the phone. Obviously there was another murder that could fit the profile. They're not sure, though, so they want us to ask around a little at the shelter, maybe find out if the victim was known throughout the scene for any violence towards animals. If you ask me it's very likely that he's related to the other murders."

"What's the MO?", Rigsby wanted to know, not for a second questioning her opinion.

"The vic's name's Zach Rooney, age 46. He raises dogs and sells them off, so I guess that in itself links him to the animal welfare people. His brother found him last night at 2.30 a.m. when he saw that there was still light on in the sheds. Rooney, or what was left of him, was lying in a kennel with some of his dogs. His body was ripped to pieces. Forensics isn't clear on the cause of death yet, considering they have to put the pieces back together. Maybe he tripped and hit his head only to be killed by the dogs. Maybe they attacked him, or maybe someone killed him before throwing him into the kennel. Lisbon will be in touch as soon as she learns more."

Rigsby shuddered. "Let's hope the man was dead when the dogs attacked. Imagine being bitten to death by your own dogs. What kind was he breeding? I bet they're not Chihuahuas, right?"

She smiled feebly. "American Staffordshires. That's fairly suspicious if you ask me."

She stood up and motioned for him to take her seat.

"Go ahead, read the gory details. I'm going to start coffee and hopefully recover from the telling-off I've received from our ever-watchful boss for having you in my bedroom in the wee hours."

He smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry about that, Grace. I guess that wasn't my brightest moment, right? Tends to happen when I'm not awake yet. Can I make it up to you?"

"Depends. How far are you willing to go?"

"I'll think about that. If I have to compensate an early morning rant from Lisbon, quite far, right?"

"Damn straight, partner." She threw him a dirty look, then disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Rigsby to find out exactly how Zach Rooney had met his fate.

* * *

><p>It turned out the agents didn't have to ask around subtly about Zach Rooney.<p>

When they entered the shelter's kitchen to drop off van Pelt's bag the room was packed with people. They were all talking at once and every other word seemed to be 'Rooney'.

Placing her bag in a corner, Grace approached the agitated group, Wayne in tow.

"Morning, guys.", she greeted. "What's the noise?"

Someone turned, waving them over to join the discussion.

"Last night Zach Rooney finally bit the dust. Got what he deserved from what I've heard."

"It's about time, too.", another volunteer piped in, followed by cheers from almost everyone in the room. Feigning confusion, Rigsby asked: "Who is this Rooney guy who's passing we're celebrating?"

Silence met his question. All eyes were suddenly on him, some surprised, others downright disgusted.

"Don't tell me you haven't heard of Zach Rooney.", a middle-aged woman whom Rigsby remembered seeing before demanded.

"How can you call yourself an animal welfare activist and not know the enemy?"

"Could that be because Wayne and Grace are new to L.A.? Has it ever occurred to you that the people we're fighting here don't make the news elsewhere?", Trish's stern voice cut through the room. "As much as I think Mr. Rooney should have been stopped I don't appreciate anyone celebrating his death. Do I have to remind you we're here because we honour life? It is a disgrace to any human to be happy when another living being dies a violent death. If you must gloat about the fact that Rooney is no longer, please feel free to take the day off and do that elsewhere. I won't have any of it in my house. Now, everybody else, please go back to work, we have a busy day ahead." The blonde effectively shooed her staff out of the kitchen, motioning for the agents to stay behind. When the room had cleared, she addressed Rigsby: "I'm sorry about that, Wayne. I know they sometimes get ahead of themselves feeling so righteous but snapping at you for asking a question is just ridiculous.

Zach Rooney has been a thorn in the flesh of animal welfare people for many years. On the outside he's just a nice, middle-aged man who breeds dogs. Whenever someone comes checking everything's perfect on his farm. The dogs are well-fed, there's enough space for every animal he owns, fresh water's available. But nobody's ever been able to get solid proof of what goes on behind the scene. Rooney sells off his dogs to people who make them fight and bet on the outcome. Naturally, Rooney's dogs are fierce and unpredictable. We know he trains them using sticks, prods and electric shocks but again there's no proof, or should I say, there's not enough proof to get law enforcement moving. As long as it's 'only dogs' they keep turning a blind eye, especially since Rooney's family lived in the area for ages." Trish looked sad, obviously this was a story she'd seen repeating itself many times over.

"That explains why everybody thinks it's a good thing that the man's dead. But what happened?", Wayne asked.

"Nobody knows for sure yet, considering the police keep fairly quiet about the whole affair. One of my regulars has connections to the local authorities. He got a call this morning tipping him off about Zach Rooney's death. Seems they found his body mutilated by some of his own dogs tonight. They're not sure if it was a crime but if you ask me I'd guess it was an accident."

"How so?", Grace prompted.

"Well, Rooney bred American Staffordshires for pit fighting. He would select only the fiercest dogs for his business, wouldn't he? Those dogs are already aggressive due to their descent and even more so after they've been trained to fight. They're nothing like ordinary family dogs, they're not accustomed to interaction with humans for they know them to cause nothing but pain and fear. If Rooney or anyone else were to trip and fall among them they'd most likely attack. It's what he's trained them for, after all. They don't love him, so they're bound to turn against their master when the chance arises. I doubt Zach Rooney's death was anything than his own doing from the way he raised his dogs."

Grace nodded. "I've seen some of those poor dogs you're talking about. Not Mr. Rooney's, of course, but there are others like him around all over the country. The youngest and the older dogs can sometimes be taught to trust humans again but they hardly find new homes. You have to know what you're doing when you adopt a dog like that.

When I was a girl my cousin found a severely injured dog that had obviously escaped the pits. My uncle took the poor thing in and nursed it back to health. We called him 'Boss'. He was gentle when it came to us kids but one day a sales agent walked into the yard. The man must have reminded Boss of his former master for the dog simply lost it. He attacked the man and almost killed him. My uncle had to shoot the poor dog to save the man's life. That's how dangerous those dogs can get.", she finished, looking at Rigsby who realized at once that she hadn't made the story up. He briefly took her hand in his and smiled reassuringly.

"I'm beginning to understand why guys like Rooney are so dangerous. What I don't get, though, is that nobody seems to be able to stop them. Aren't pit fights with dogs illegal in the US?"

Trish's deep sigh showed that she'd had this conversation before.

"As I said, it's nearly impossible to prove what's going on at those farms. Breeding dogs isn't illegal as long as you keep up to standards, as low as they might be. Neither is it against the law to train your dogs to attack. In rural areas like this every farmer has one or two dogs to guard his property. Many companies use dogs as well for they're lower maintenance than human security guards. The only illegal thing is making them fight and bet on it. But the fighting locations are kept secret. Outsiders don't get in, and those who are in won't talk. Not that I blame them. Anyone who talks would be dead before the trial even starts. Besides, the cops aren't particularly helpful. I bet they're ahead of themselves finding the one who finished Rooney if his death turns out to be anything but an accident. When it's just dogs who suffer and die nobody works too hard, if they start working at all."

A flash of guilt stabbed van Pelt at Trish's words, but she didn't flinch. Rigsby seemed to feel it as well for his eyes flickered over to her briefly, making sure she was okay.

"I think I'm getting the picture, though I must admit I don't like what I see.", he finally said.

"None of those dedicated to animal welfare like it.", Trish answered.

"Unfortunately there's nothing we can do about that, unless we fall back upon violence. Which would make us as bad as the ones we're fighting."

She raked a hand through her unruly hair and gave them a wan smile.

"Anyhow, there's a lot we **can** do for the poor creatures that live here, so let's get some work done."

When the agents nodded, she gave them the day's tasks and sent them off.

* * *

><p>Going to bed that night proved to be a lot less awkward than the previous night. Grace just nodded at her partner before he had a chance to ask the question, and he followed her to the bedroom. As soon as they were settled in, Grace crossed the gap between them and placed her head on his chest.<p>

"Do you mind?", she asked, a little shyly. "It's just that you make such a fine pillow."

Wayne grinned, putting an arm around her to draw her closer.

"I don't mind at all.", he told her. "You make a nice teddy bear as well."

Chuckling softly, she shifted around to get more comfortable. They were silent for a moment, then van Pelt spoke up.

"Wayne? I'm a little worried about tomorrow.", she admitted.

"Why? We'll go to the march, meet some new people, hopefully gain some insight into the scene. You've been doing great these last few days. Why should tomorrow be any different?"

She didn't say anything for a while, and he realized that she was uncomfortable. He waited a little longer, thinking that maybe she'd fallen asleep on him. When she finally spoke again he heard in her voice that she wasn't happy about what she was going to say next.

"You may think we're only going to another meeting with animal welfare people, but it's not that. Tomorrow we're going to meet some of the hardliners of the scene. They usually hang around at events like that to recruit new members and to drive their point across.

In college I ran across those people. I was dedicated to animal welfare work even then and so I met my share of animal liberationists. One of the guys I hung out with was a member of a more... violent group and he got me in. We did the usual stuff, stormed the canteen, screaming 'meat is murder', chained ourselves to old trees to prevent them from being cut down, things like that. I was lucky I never got arrested or I wouldn't be working for the CBI now."

"Well, I'm glad you got away.", Rigsby assured her. "We would miss you around. Why did you leave the group? Broke up with your boyfriend?"

"Keith was never my boyfriend. I guess he wanted to be but I saw him more like a brother of sorts, considering that I was on my own for the first time in my life and desperately searching for a new family. No, the story's a little more complicated."

"Care to share?", he inquired, feeling her head shake on his chest.

"Not really, but I feel I should. It might affect my work. Besides, I don't want you to think I was totally crazy back then."

"Oh, come on. Ever since we're working with Jane my standards of what is crazy have risen into infinity. I doubt you'll ever be able to do anything that qualifies as 'crazy' these days."

She snorted. "It's good to hear you have at least some faith in me. Anyway, after a few months of being a constant pain in the butt of society, Keith finally decided that protesting wasn't enough any more. He wanted to make a statement, so he got in touch with a bunch of environmentalists who had gone underground. One day, at a meeting, he announced that we would do something 'real'. He wanted us to break into a research facility and free all the animals that were used for medical research. Of course we were ecstatic for we truly believed we could save the poor creatures.

When we finally did the deed, nothing was like we had imagined it. One of the guards almost caught us, and Keith knocked him out with a baseball bat. Later I heard the man barely made it. We managed to free the animals, mostly dogs, pigs and monkeys, but we couldn't get all of them to move through the gap we had cut into the fence. It was chaotic. We got away, feeling somehow euphoric, but when I watched the news the next morning desillusionment hit me like a punch. Most of the animals we had managed to set free hadn't made it further than the main road before being hit by cars. People were injured in these accidents. The pigs, which had refused to move through the fence, were re-captured on the facility's property or died from shock during the chase. I suddenly realized that we hadn't only not freed the animals but had ended up killing them, hurting innocent humans in the process. I left the group that day and never spoke to Keith again. For some months I didn't even want to have anything to do with animal welfare, but gradually I found out that there are some people dedicated to the cause who aren't as fanatic as Keith and his friends. I finally came to terms with what had happened and decided to chalk it up to being young and stupid.", she finished, then added: "I want you to understand that we're dealing with decidedly dangerous people here. They're not your usual tree-huggers, nor are they all nice, harmless guys who work at shelters because they love animals. It's much bigger than that. The short glimpse I got into the scene all those years ago has taught me one thing: There are people out there who would kill you for eating meat. From what I've heard the most radical groups even blow up fast-food restaurants full of people."

"It's good that I used to work at Arsons, then, isn't it?", Rigsby quipped but became serious when she didn't laugh.

"Of course there are nutcases around the scene. If there weren't, we wouldn't be here in the first place, don't you think? But thank you for reminding me. It's easy to forget how violent those people might get if they think it helps their cause. They seem so nice."

She nodded slightly before he went on: "Does the boss know about your past with the animal liberation scene?"

"No! And please don't tell her. I don't want anyone to know."

"Don't worry, I won't say a word. I was just wondering because it's kind of convenient that they invented a record for you including breaking in research facilities."

"I guess someone has to be the black sheep here, and since I'm the one who knows what she's doing they picked me. Or they simply threw a coin."

"Knowing the guys who usually set up that kind of undercover work it's probably the latter.", he told Grace, this time drawing a giggle from her.

After a few minutes of silence she slipped out from under his arm and propped her chin in one hand, looking down at her partner. "I want you to tell me a secret.", she stated. Confused, he asked: "A secret? Which secret?"

"I don't know. Tell me something that no one at the CBI knows, not even Cho. I need to hear something you haven't told the others so I can feel equal again. You know the darkest part of my life and I want something in return so I can look you in the eye and not feel silly."

Even though Rigsby understood her desire to get back on equal footing he was at a temporary loss as to what to tell her. There weren't that many secrets hidden in his past. Wayne Rigsby was mostly an open book, the 'what you see is what you get' kind of guy. The one thing he was hiding was how deeply his feelings for Grace ran, but that was hardly a secret to their colleagues even though the object of his desire seemed to be blissfully clueless.

He took his time to consider her request, not wanting to disappoint her by saying something trite.

Suddenly it hit him. There was indeed one thing he had never told anyone, but it was something he had decided a long time ago never to speak of. Then again, this was Grace, the woman he was in love with, and if he couldn't tell her, his feelings weren't worth a damn, right? Deciding to entrust her with his only real secret, he drew a deep sigh and pulled her back into his arms, partly to escape her scrutiny in the moonlight and partly because he needed to be as close to her as possible when he said the words.

"There was a time, back at arsons, when I almost lost it.", he began.

"The team was investigating the case of a serial arsonist. Though we were hot on his trail, we never managed to get a hold of the bastard. Then one day my partner and I came so damn close. We were at another scene when suddenly the neighbours' house lit up like a torch. There were two children inside, and I just had to go in and try to save them."

Shuddering, Grace wound her arms around him, involuntarily squeezing him as close as she could, remembering another incident when she had almost lost him to a fire because he just couldn't let an innocent man burn to death.

Wayne returned her embrace full force and continued: "I managed to find the older girl and get her out but I couldn't find her baby brother. I stayed inside as long as I could but finally I was dragged out by the fire brigade, covered in burns. Had to stay at the hospital for nearly two weeks. That's when I learned the baby had burned to death. He'd been in his spare crib in the mother's study. It was the only door I hadn't opened. I might have been able to save the little one if I had only thought to open that stupid door. When I was finally discharged I went home and got drunk. I couldn't stand the thought of having let the poor baby down. That night I got a call from my boss. They had finally caught the arsonist in the act. It was my own partner. It had been him all along. How could I have not known that? I'd worked with him all this time and hadn't realized he was a monster. You might not know but statistics says that most arsonists are fascinated with fire which is why they either try in vain to get into the fire department or actually are firemen. Well, our department was second best to that, it seems. That night, consumed by guilt as I was, I would have needed my partner because he should have understood how I felt and helped me get through it. But he wasn't around any more, so I was all alone. I was so driven by guilt over the fact that people would still be alive if only I'd have figured it all out sooner, that I took my service weapon and decided to end it there and then. I was paid to protect and to serve, for God's sake, and I had failed. I sat there all night, gun in hand, and tried to find the courage to finish it. But I couldn't. I took the cowardly way out. The next day I requested a transfer. I just couldn't stay in arsons after what had happened. My transfer was granted, considering that I had just lost my partner. They understood. I've never told anyone how close I had come to killing myself that night and I won't ever tell it to anyone again. It's just for you, Grace, so you'll feel we're equal again. Don't worry, I'm not suicidal, it was just a very dark moment that hopefully won't ever repeat iteslf."

Silent tears were streaming down Grace's cheeks. She hadn't expected him to be so honest, to tell her something so profound. She should have known better, though. This was Rigsby, after all, her partner who would give her everything he had in an instant. His intensity sometimes scared her, but most of the time it was what made her feel so secure with him. Crying for the pain he'd had to go through, she stroked his face softly, trying to reassure him that it was all right, that she wouldn't betray his trust. When her fingers grew moist she finally realized he was crying, too.

"Shhh, it's alright, I've got you.", she whispered, bringing his hand up to her cheek to show him he wasn't alone in his grief. His tender fingers tracing her own tears woke a flock of giddy butterflies in her stomach. She tried to hush them back to sleep but it was no use. They fluttered around her guts and announced something she should have discovered a long time ago (that's why there was an 'I' in CBI, after all, right?): That she was falling for her partner, and fast. Sighing deeply, she rested her head on his chest once again. "You know that I won't ever let you down, don't you, Wayne? If you ever encounter a dark moment like that again I want you to come to me and let me help you through it. I know you're probably closer to Cho but if, for any reason, he's not around please let me be there for you."

His smile was a little watery around the edges but it warmed her heart none the less.

"I may be close to Cho, but I told you about this, right? I promise I'll come to you if I need comfort but I want you to promise me the same."

This made her smile. "I already did, remember?"

Suddenly a thought occurred to her.

"I think we have just broken one of Lisbon's golden rules."

"The one that says 'Thou shalt not share a bed with your partner'? We've already been there, don't you think?"

Grace shook her head. "Not that one. I'm talking about the one where we 'don't share our personal life in this unit for it's unprofessional and not useful'.", she quoted the line their boss had used on her back when she had been new to the team and had tried to comfort Lisbon during a hard case. She knew better than that now, of course, but the rejection still stung a little.

Wayne chuckled. "She really used that line on you, too? I've heard it from her at the beginning, but I decided not to care. Whereas it may be true that we shouldn't let our personal lives interfer with work I still believe it can be useful to be able to confide in your partners when things get tough. It's the only way to deal with what the job throws at us on a daily basis. You know how it is: We can't talk to our friends who aren't with the force because they wouldn't understand and we don't want to scare them. If we're not allowed to rely on our colleagues who is there left to talk to? The shrink? I don't think so. Besides, don't you think the boss has broken her own rule time and again when it comes to Jane? What do you think they do when they're locked up in her office all that time? They can't always argue or they'd have killed each other by now."

"I guess you're right. We're probably breaking every rule in the book on this assignment, so why do I even care? We do what we have to do, right?"

"Absolutely. We should get some sleep, though, for tomorrow may be tough. But don't worry. If your past catches up with you we'll outrun it together, okay?"

"I'll do my best. Thank you... for everything."

"I have to thank you, too, so we should probably stop the thanking each other thing or it might get tedious.", he teased. Punching him lightly, she buried her still damp face into his shirt.

Sleep took a while to claim the pair, but when it did, there were no nightmares.


	9. Chapter 9

**Many unhealthy cupcakes with pink frosting go to wldwmn for the review, the help with colloquial language and the pokes. **

* * *

><p>Grace van Pelt glanced out the window, an annoyed look on her face.<p>

"Do you think it's going to rain today?", she asked Rigsby who eyed the looming grey clouds wearily.

"Sure looks like it.", he answered. She muttered a curse.

"Just our luck. We're off to a protest march the day L.A.'s statistically scheduled rain comes down. I guess I'll better change, then."

"Why? You look good."

Making a face, van Pelt dug a batik print shirt out of the closet.

"I can't exactly wear a white shirt on a rainy day, can I?"

"Why not?", Rigsby wondered.

She rolled her eyes as if the answer to that was obvious – which it was, but maybe not to a man.

"Hmm, let me think... It might become see-through when wet?"

He couldn't resist teasing her a little. "Then don't change. I bet there are guys out there who would kill for the view."

Smacking his head with the shirt she was holding, she deadpanned: "And then I'll have to watch you kill the men in question? Not gonna happen." She grinned teasingly and disappered into the bathroom to change.

* * *

><p>When she emerged, Rigsby had already made coffee. "Did you get word from Lisbon?", he wanted to know.<p>

"Actually, yes. Got another mail when you were in the shower. Apparently Rooney was still alive when he was tossed to the dogs. They're treating it as a murder case now, so he's very likely one of ours."

"How do they know? He could still have fallen in and hit his head. There's no way to tell with his body all mutilated."

"The coroner said Rooney's skull was intact, no fractures, no hematoma, no internal bleeding, so he can't have hit his head hard enough to knock himself unconscious. Obviously the dogs went at the fleshy parts first, arms, thighs, genitals, stomach, leaving Rooney's head relatively unharmed. Besides, they found a bullet in his right knee, indicating the killer wanted to prevent him from escaping."

Rigsby flinched. "Ouch. That must have hurt like hell. And then the dogs' attack..."

van Pelt shrugged. "I'd feel sorry for the man if he hadn't trained the dogs to attack. Of course we need to find whoever did this but in some way Rooney had brought it on himself."

"Are you saying the dogs wouldn't have harmed a bleeding man in their own kennel if they had been brought up differently?"

"Probably not. There are usually two reasons for dogs to fight: out of fear and over resources. Resources being food, water, toys, privileges, their grounds and potential sexual partners. They may also fight to protect their pack. Why on earth should any dog attack his master, who's supposed to belong to the pack, even when he's injured?"

Rigsby shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I still have a lot to learn about dogs and animal welfare if I want to keep my soon-to-be wife.", he joked.

"That's only the basics. It'll take a lot more.", she teased back, putting her empty cup into the sink.

"Are you done? I don't want to be late and miss all the important parts." Her former eagerness had returned full-force after last night's talk.

"We need to bring food.", Rigsby reminded her.

"Personally, I'd disagree with you, considering we've just had breakfast and there will be food stalls at the end of the march, but knowing you, I'm afraid you're going to starve on your way to the car." With that, she stuffed a box of cookies into her bag, followed by a zip-log bag filled with carrot and kohlrabi sticks that Rigsby eyed suspiciously.

"You don't expect me to eat that, do you?", he asked. "You know I'm allergic to vitamins."

"Consider it part of your redemption for bringing Lisbon's wrath upon me yesterday."

Clutching his heart with a pained expression on his face, Rigsby croaked: "You are so cruel, woman."

"Get used to it. It's all part of the deal if you want to keep me.", van Pelt shot back, slung the bag over her shoulder and headed for the door.

* * *

><p>The agents arrived at the meeting point just ten minutes before the protest march was scheduled to begin. There was already an impressive crowd gathering at the location. Many people were carrying banners, some had brought their children or dogs. There was a cacophony of dozens of conversations, barking, laughter and music. Most of the participants seemed to know each other which, to van Pelt, was quite common around the scene.<p>

She and Rigsby felt a little lost in the crowd as they only knew each other. Rigsby took a chance by grabbing the redhead's hand.

"I don't wanna lose you around here.", he muttered by way of apology, and she nodded, lacing her fingers through his.

"Fine with me, though I believe you're more worried about losing the food." She patted her bag for emphasis.

"You don't really think I'd choose a bag of rabbit's food over you, do you?", he quipped, letting her pull him into the heart of the crowd.

"Have you spotted any of those hardliners you were talking about yet?", he whispered in her ear. Grace shook her head. "They usually don't make an appearance at the actual marches.", she whispered back. "We'll see them at the gathering at the end, though."

"I haven't seen anyone from the shelter either.", Wayne told her just as a grinning Lynn jumped up at him from the crowd, hugging him.

"Wayne, Grace, there you are. I'm glad you made it." She let go of Rigsby, embracing van Pelt instead, kissing her cheek. Only then did she remember her companion, a slender young woman who was standing a little to the side. Lynn pulled her over to the pair. Her pale features were framed by jet-black hair that touched her shoulders. Dark eyes downcast, she smiled shyly at the agents.

"This is Annabelle, my girlfriend. Anna, meet Wayne and Grace. They're new to L.A. I've told you they help out at Trish's, haven't I?"

The young woman nodded and shook first van Pelt's, then Rigsby's hand.

"It's very nice to meet you two.", she said. "Do you want to walk with Lynn and me, since you don't know too many others around?"

They happily accepted, joining the two girls. Grace turned to Lynn, asking: "Do you know if anyone else from the shelter is here today?"

"I s'ppose most of them are around somewhere. Trish won't be at the march itself because she and a few of the regulars are hosting an info stall today. They're probably setting up the whole thing while we're talking. The others? Well, I guess we'll see most of them around. Come on now, they're moving."

Taking Annabelle's hand, Lynn followed the people who slowly made their way onto the street that had been blocked for cars for the occasion, motioning for the pair to join them. Grace hesitated for only a second, then slid her hand back into Wayne's. It felt natural, the way their fingers intertwined. Hand in hand, they walked alongside Lynn and Annabelle, the latter walking quietly whereas her girlfriend chatted away all the time, pointing out people she knew, explaining their role in the animal welfare scene. She proved to be a valuable source of information, and unlike some of the others they had encountered so far, she was quite willing to share.

Rigsby chanced a glance at his partner, who was trying hard to memorize every single name Lynn mentioned. He bent down, pretending to kiss her cheek, and whispered: "You do the guys, I do the girls, 'k?" She nodded, relaxing a little. They walked on, observing their surroundings closely, soaking up the atmosphere. Rigsby noticed that van Pelt seemed to be more at ease with every passing moment, blending in nicely in her hip-hugging jeans, t-shirt and denim bag. He wondered if she'd purchased the outfit solely for this assignment or if her closet really held little hippie treasures like these. He was willing to bet on the latter, hopeful that he'd be lucky enough to find out one day.

On impulse, he leaned down to brush his lips to her temple. She looked up at him and smiled, though a little confused.

"Sorry.", he mouthed, taken aback by his own courage. Grace shrugged and turned away from him, not quite sure what she was thinking about his actions. Surely he had only been acting for cover's sake, right? But why had he apologized? She resolutely shoved the waking butterflies back into the darkness of her stomach and concentrated on the task at hand: walking while holding Rigsby's hand and not stumbling. No, wait, that wasn't what she should be doing, was it? There was a purpose to this whole event, even though it was difficult to spot through the flock of fluttery wings. Right, the assignment. Pretending to be Rigsby's girlfriend. She had that part down to perfection, considering she couldn't think straight after feeling his lips on her skin. Stupid! She had sworn to herself that she would never let anything get in her job's way. Not even butterflies. But between still holding her partner's hand and fighting the colourful insects that were flooding her insides she found it hard to concentrate on anything else. And Lynn was still talking... Oh, that's it. Listen to Lynn. Memorize the names and places she's talking about.

Finally van Pelt got a grip and managed to coordinate her legs and brain according to the job that had to be done.

* * *

><p>When the protest march had finally reached its destination, the place was already packed. Spotting Trish at the shelter's info stall, Lynn all but dragged the others along to greet the blonde. Trish was all smiles today, the grim expression she often wore at the shelter gone. She hugged Lynn and Annabelle, who stiffened briefly, then waved at Wayne and Grace.<p>

"How's it going?", Lynn wanted to know.

"Slow, so far. But there have been a few people who've taken our brochure. There'll be more traffic in the afternoon when the families come for coffee. I might need some assistance at the stall by then. Grace, Lynn, you up for that?"

"Sure.", the women agreed.

"Anna and I are gonna take a look at the other stalls, if that's okay.", Lynn added, then she and her girlfriend disappeared into the crowd.

"She's a good kid.", Trish said with a smile. "I don't know about Anna, though. It's hard to assess her, she doesn't talk much."

"How could she?", Wayne asked with a wry grin. "When Lynn opens her mouth, you're lucky if you get a word in."

Grace giggled, and Trish suppressed a laugh. "All too true. Now, off you go, enjoy yourselves until I need you here." She waved them off, and the pair made their way around the site, once again holding hands.

They checked out the stalls that lined the place, van Pelt browsing through those which offered silver trinkets and new age stuff. She leafed through a few books while Rigsby stood close behind her, reading over her shoulder.

"'Communicating with animals'?", he murmured into her ear, his breath making her shiver slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's the art of what I do when working with dogs, only it works with other animals, too. It's a skill everybody can learn.", she explained.

"You don't mean to tell me that you can have an elaborate conversation about politics with the spider in our bedroom, just like that?", he asked incredulously.

"There's a spider in our bedroom?", Grace demanded, alarmed.

"I didn't say there was. It was just an example."

"Next time don't use spiders as an example.", she snapped, then went on, as if to cover her discomfort: "It's not likely that any animal would want to talk about politics, but basically you can talk about anything, even though most animals would rather talk about their needs, what makes them happy, everyday life and things like that."

He eyed her closely, thinking she might be pulling his leg to get back at him for the spider comment, but she looked like she was serious. To his ears, what she'd just said sounded unbelievable, but he decided not to tell her that. Accepting your partner's lifestyle was the secret of any healthy relationship, after all, and if reading books on animal communication made Grace happy, he could certainly live with that.

She chose one of the books she had been examining, paid and dropped it into her bag. As they strolled on, she stopped every now and then when something caught her eye. Rigsby watched her, happily engrossed in the goods on display, his attention only diverted whenever they encountered the odd food stall.

Finally, van Pelt had mercy and stopped at a stall which sold pastries to get her partner some food. She bought a cupcake covered with pink frosting, which, according to the clerk, wasn't artificially flavoured but still looked unhealthy enough for Rigsby's taste. When she offered her prize to him, Rigsby looked astounded, for he knew she wasn't into buying junk food when she had a whole bag of rabbit food at hand.

"What happened to 'healthy snacking'?", he teased, quickly grabbing the cupcake before she could decide to take it back.

"I think you deserve some indulgance for being such a good boy." She grinned, then got on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear: "Seriously, I wanted to thank you for being absolutely wonderful these last few days. You make me feel worthy of the job and help me overcome my awkwardness. I know it's not easy for you, and I... Well, thank you."

Touched beyond words, Rigsby hugged her close, nearly smashing the shocking pink treat between their bodies. He kissed her forehead gently, still at a loss for words at her sweet statement, then pulled her out of the crowd to lean onto a railing and eat her gift without being jostled. She stood next to him, her arm laced through his, her head resting on his shoulder as she watched people pass them by. Her vision was blurred only when something pink and sticky appeared in front of her. She looked up to see Rigsby holding his cupcake out to her. Raising an eyebrow, she took a tentative bite, half expecting him to pull the pastry back before she could. But obviously, Rigsby was feeling generous today, offering another bite. In the end, they shared his cupcake fair and square, the tall man getting a secret thrill out of the fact that he had Grace van Pelt eating out of his hands for once.

After the last bit of frosting was cleaned away from his fingers, Wayne looked at the redhead. "Do you want to shop some more?"

"Let's just stay here for a while and observe. Looks like someone'll give a speech, we might just listen from here instead of getting jostled in the crowd again.", she answered, pointing to a stage in the middle of the grounds where someone was preparing a microphone. He nodded his agreement, leaning back against the railing once more, this time putting an arm around her as other people seemed to have the same idea and the space was getting tighter. After a moment's hesitation Grace stepped from her place at the railing, standing in front of her partner and leaning her back against his chest to make room for a woman with two children. Wayne wrapped his arms around her middle, pulling her even closer, and rested his chin on her head. Sighing softly, she closed her eyes, amazed at how safe she felt in his arms. She allowed herself to revel in the feeling, momentarily forgetting she should be observing the crowd, when someone called her name. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and turned to whoever had spoken, recognizing a man from the shelter.

"Pete, hi. Sorry, I didn't see you at first."

The tall man chuckled. "I can see you've been pre-occupied." He winked at her blush, nodding a greeting at Rigsby before sitting on the railing next to the couple.

"Have you seen anyone else from Trish's?", he wanted to know. Rigsby told him they had met Trish herself and Lynn plus girlfriend.

"I drove here with some other guys from the shelter, but I'm not sure you've met them yet. They've run off with my wife, shopping.", he complained.

"Lucky for you they didn't drag you along.", Rigsby commented. "I've had to endure my share of window-shopping and I must confess these new age- stalls make me want to run."

"Be careful what you say, Mister, or you might end up sleeping on the couch tonight.", van Pelt threatened. He cuddled her closer. "I'm not saying that all of it is fake, but there is a lot of silly stuff out there made for the sole purpose to make money. I'm not an expert, but think many people who buy that stuff are just naive."

Grace shot him a dirty look. "As much as I agree with you on the money-making aspect, it's not fair to call those who believe 'naive' without even trying to get an insight into the matter. You should know what you're talking about before you start talking."

Defeated, Wayne nodded. "That's true. I'm sorry, but I promise to read up on the subject before bad-mouthing it again."

"Try to keep that in mind the next time we visit Uncle Patrick and he starts rambling about the topic.", she teased, making Rigsby cringe at the thought of him defending van Pelt's new age belief in front of ever-mocking Jane. _The things we do for love,_ he mused, stroking her stomach absent-mindedly. He only realized what he was doing when he heard her humming softly in response to his touch. She didn't seem to mind his ministrations, though, so he kept it up, knowing he could always say he did it for their cover's sake if she called him on it. He might have felt a lot better if he had known she was far from complaining.

Snuggling even deeper into Rigsby's arms, van Pelt had a hard time suppressing a purr. His touch felt heavenly, and it would have been so easy to forget where she was and just lose herself in his caress. But she couldn't allow that to happen, she had to stay professional. Office romances were strictly off limits, and she couldn't afford to risk her precious job for anything, she told herself. So, no falling for Wayne Rigsby, annoying, quirky, adoringly shy, chivalrous, too damn cute for his own good, gentle giant Rigsby. No, wait, this was exactly the lane she should not be going down! Rigsby equals partner equals 'strictly off limits'.

_Don't fall in love with your colleague,_ she chided herself, but that tiny voice inside her head whispered the inconvenient truth: _Too late, it's already happening..._

Ignoring the devil on her shoulder, Grace came back to reality and forced her mind to concentrate on the man who had just entered the stage and now addressed the crowd. After listening for about ten minutes, she realized with dismay that she didn't have the slightest clue what the man was talking about. Hopefully, Rigsby had paid better attention. He wasn't distracted by feather-light caresses on **his** stomach, after all.

Another few minutes later Grace sensed that it was no use. No way would she be able to focus on her task when Wayne was so damn close. She needed to get away from him, get some space, get a grip.

Disentangling herself from his arms, she excused herself to go to the ladies' room, leaving Wayne and Pete behind. The two men looked after her, Wayne smiling wistfully, his arms feeling strangely empty all of a sudden.

"Have you two been together long?", Pete asked after a moment's silence.

Rigsby shrugged. "Depends on what you consider long. We've known each other for three years now, but we didn't start dating until last year. Should have asked her out much sooner, though."

"Why didn't you? Nerves?"

"Sort of. I mean, look at her, she's way out of my league, beautiful, intelligent, compassionate... Then there's the fact that she's from what you'd call a 'good family' whereas my people kind of... suck. I figured there wasn't much I had to offer to her."

"So, what changed your mind?"

"I guess I just couldn't ignore my feelings any more. I thought, to hell with it, if you don't ask her, you'll never know. Can you believe my surprise when she actually said yes? We went on one date, and the rest, as they say, is history.", Rigsby told the man their cover story, not missing the hint of truth behind his words.

Pete nodded in sympathy. "You probably won't believe me, but it was almost the same with my wife. Only it was her who asked me out because I couldn't get my act together. I wonder what it is with those perfect women who fall for ordinary guys like us. No offense.", he hastened to reassure Wayne, who just shrugged.

"Don't worry. It's true. Sometimes I ask myself how on earth I got so lucky.", he admitted, suddenly getting an idea.

"Would you mind staying here for a moment until Grace comes back? I want to get something for her, a little surprise."

"Sure. I'm not going anywhere before my wife gets back, anyway, so go ahead."

"Thanks." Rigsby hurried off, eager to carry out his plan before he lost his nerve.


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm sorry, folks, that it took me so long to update. My muse did strange things to my imagination and then real life decided I was needed there for once. **

**Again, big thanks go to wldwmn for being a tireless beta reader and for bouncing ideas for this chapter.**

**Also, I have to thank aekz for pestering me to write this damn chapter. Her messages showed me that some people out there actually care for this story. I won't keep you waiting this long for the next update, I promise.**

* * *

><p>When she exited the ladies' room, van Pelt spotted the group at once. On arriving here, she'd been too shaken to notice anything but her fluttering heart. It had taken a few minutes in a stall, some cold water splashed on her flushing cheeks and a few calming breaths that didn't carry Rigsby's intoxicating scent to get a grip, but now that she was as good as new, she realized she should have seen those people immediately.<p>

They gathered around a table stacked with info material, brochures, buttons and flyers. A huge poster was plastered to the wall next to them, showing the mutilated body of a piglet, slaughtered and torn. The broken corpse was displayed on the counter of a fast-food restaurant, the words 'Do you want fries with this?' printed across the picture in bloody letters. The group standing beneath the poster comprised two men and five women, dressed in organic cotton, the women in long skirts or loose pants, the men in khakis, not a stitch of plastic material or leather on their bodies. None of them seemed to care that their provocative poster might frighten the many children around. There was no doubt: van Pelt had found the hardliner animal rights activists.

Without thinking, she approached the group, feigning interest in the display of shocking brochures on the table although she remembered most of them from her brush with the hardliners in college. They hadn't changed that much. If anything, the accusing photographs of tortured animals had become even more glossy and thus appalling over the years.

As she leafed through a pamphlet about the meat industry, a disgusted look on her face, a man approached her.

"When you look at these figures you can't help but realize that eating at McDonald's is, indeed, murder. With every cheese burger you eat you're responsible for the ruthless torturing and slaughtering of cattle.", he told her.

She looked up at him, his lanky form and the grey eyes under his brownish curls shockingly familiar. The man stared at her intently, frowning.

"Do I know you?", he asked.

"I don't think so." The lie came out easily, spoken with the best poker face she could muster, the one Rigsby always fell for and Jane usually saw through in the blink of an eye. Still frowning, the man looked her over once more.

"You sure look familiar.", he insisted. van Pelt saw the moment recognition dawned.

"Grace... Is that you?"

No use in denying it. Keith Bradshaw, the dreaded ghost from her wilder college years, had turned flesh right in front of her, and he obviously hadn't forgotten.

Numbly, she nodded, her face screwed up in fake confusion.

"Come on, Grace. Don't tell me you don't remember. It's Keith, Keith Bradshaw. We met when you were in college."

Still shell-shocked, she let recognition register on her face after another minute.

"Keith. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you, it's been so long."

"True, but I recognized you the minute I saw you. Really, you haven't changed at all."

_You have no idea,_ van Pelt thought wryly, frantically searching her memory for anything useful. Had Keith known her last name when they knew each other in college? Or had he just known her as 'Grace', like most of her peers had at that time? She couldn't remember, but she had to hope. If he knew her last name, her cover was in grave danger.

"So, Grace, tell me, what have you been doing? I'm surprised to see you at a place like this, after all, you've turned your back on animal welfare."

She could hear the accusation in his tone, mixed with a slight curiosity, and instantly rose to his challenge.

"I didn't turn my back on animal welfare.", she snapped. "I just didn't feel the cause justified every possible action, especially when people got hurt."

"It's okay", Keith gave in. "You were too young to see the whole picture, but I'm glad you've returned. You might see our work in a different light, now that you've grown up. So tell me, what have you been up to?"

van Pelt swallowed an angry remark, knowing she had to make the man believe she was less appalled by his methods now than she had been after the research facility fiasco. Slipping into her cover story with ease, she told Keith about her job, meeting Wayne and moving to L.A. with him to start a family, finishing with how she couldn't live without animals.

"So right after settling, I dragged poor Wayne over to Trish Wallace's place. And here we are.", she concluded. "How about you?"

Keith shrugged. "I've been doing the same all along, organizing animal liberation activities. Six months ago I came to California to found a cell here. This state is pretty backward when it comes to protecting the earth. What about your friend, Wayne? Is he one of us?"

"He loves animals and he sees that protecting our planet makes a lot of sense. Speaking of Wayne, I guess I should be getting back or he might wonder where I am. Why don't you come along? I'd like you to meet him."

To her enormous relief, Keith agreed. She wasn't sure how long she'd be able to handle him on her own without showing her disdain in his ideals. With Rigsby at her side, it was going to be much easier.

Keith called out to his group: "Guys? Can you hold up without me for a while? I'll be off with my old friend Grace..." He hesitated.

"I never knew your last name, I'm afraid."

"Carpenter.", she assisted, a wave of relief washing through her.

"Grace Carpenter...", he repeated. "We have some catching up to do, but I'll be back soon."

His friends nodded, waved at Grace half-heartedly or murmured something unintelligible when the two of them left the scene.

* * *

><p>"Isn't Grace back yet?", Rigsby asked Pete who had stoically warmed their places. "Nope, but she can't be too long... Oh, speak of the devil. Here she is. Looks like she found company, too."<p>

Rigsby looked in the direction Pete was pointing, only to see his Grace waving her way through the ever-growing crowd, a dark, lanky man in tow, talking agitatedly to her. As Wayne still wondered who the stranger might be, Grace had already stepped up to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed her soft lips against his cheek, whispering "Person of interest" into his ear. He nodded against her lips, then pecked her cheek in return before turning to Keith.

"Good to have you back, babe.", he told her gently, displaying his affection by pulling her briefly to his side.

"Who's your friend?"

"Wayne, this is Keith, an old friend from college. Turns out he and his group have an info stall over there." She pointed in the direction they had come from, then addressed Keith: "Keith, this is Wayne, the man in my life." She emphasized the last part, as to make it clear to Keith that she was a taken woman.

Rigsby froze at the mention of the man's name. Keith... Could this be the ominous animal liberationist who'd shaken her belief in animal welfare all those years ago? As he shook the man's hand firmly (perhaps a little too firmly), Rigsby scanned van Pelt's face for obvious signs of discomfort, but found none. Just her hazel eyes, usually sparkling and alive with energy, were a little dull and her mouth was tense. Pride welled up inside him, mixed with a surge of protectiveness. She was quite the actress, his Grace, though he saw through her facade, if only because he always watched her so closely, and knew her expressions by heart. Taking her hand to reassure her, he started a conversation with Keith, finding his beliefs ridiculous to say the least. That guy really was a nutcase, Rigsby mused, as he listened to the man going on and on about how animals should be treated as equals and that killing an animal should result in severe punishment. van Pelt had been right, this man was definitely a person of interest for their case. Even if he probably wasn't the one they were looking for, his extreme point of view might have brought him into contact with the true killer.

After another half hour of talking to Keith, the man finally excused himself, announcing he had to go back to his people to help man the stall.

"That's fine.", Grace assured him. "I'm going to see if Trish needs any help. It was nice to meet you again, Keith. In fact, I'd really like to catch up with you some more. Do you want to grab coffee some time when we're not quite so busy?" The way she smiled at the guy made Wayne cringe. It was like she wanted to get Keith's hopes up. Even if he knew she was doing it to lure the animal liberationist into meeting her again and giving away info about his peers, Rigsby didn't want her to fall back on her charms to get the job done. He didn't say anything, though, just stood by and watched the two of them exchange mobile numbers, then shook Keith's hand as the man walked away. Her smile still a little shaky, van Pelt turned back to her partner with a question clearly written on her features. _Did I do it right?_

He drew her close, so they were shielded from Pete's prying eyes, and whispered in her ear: "You did fantastic, sweetheart. If he doesn't call you by tomorrow, he's an idiot."

She pulled back, beaming with pride. It touched him how much tough, confident Grace van Pelt depended on his praise. Well, technically he WAS the senior agent on this assignment, though he suspected praise from Lisbon would mean even more to her. _We all take what we can get_, he mused, reveling in the feel of her in his arms for a moment longer, before letting her go.

"I guess I really should head over to Trish so she can have a break.", she told him.

"You're right. It's almost three and she might want to catch her breath.", Rigsby agreed, but held her back before she could disappear. "Oh, I forgot, I got you a little something when you were catching up with your old friend.", he announced.

Puzzled, she looked up at him. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a wide grin split Pete's cheeks and wondered what exactly Rigsby was up to. The man in question had reached into his pocket and taken out a small object which he hid in his closed hand. Before her confused brain could come up with any kind of answer, Rigsby took her hand in his, tugging her closer.

"Grace", he began softly, his blue eyes flitting to hers for only an instant, then darting away shyly. His display of insecurity made her breath catch, for in this moment she knew that whatever was coming next, he wasn't acting. Without realizing he'd given himself away, Rigsby continued.

"You know how much you mean to me. At least I hope you do. I'm glad beyond words that I get to have you in my life, and I... I just want to thank you for having me around."

Stumbling over the words, he dropped something small and smooth into her palm, then withdrew his own hand quickly. Dumbfounded, she stared at the tiny object he'd just given her. It took a moment to register that it was a ring, a plain silver band with turquoise ornaments embroided into the surface. She held it closer to her face and realized they were footprints. Wolves' footprints, to be more precise, that made their way in a circle all around the ring's smooth surface. van Pelt stared at her partner's gift in awe. It fit their cover story perfectly, but she knew instinctively that there was far more behind it. Realizing that Rigsby looked anywhere but at her, holding his breath, she tried to get a hold on her own rampaging emotions and end his misery. She swallowed the lump in her throat, then stepped forward so Rigsby had to meet her eyes or crane his neck to avoid her gaze. She tried to tell him with her eyes that there was no need to be nervous, but got a feeling he didn't quite get the message.

"Thank you.", she whispered, throwing her arms around his solid frame and hugging him as close as she could. "Wayne, this is beautiful. Thank you so much."

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that Pete was probably still watching their exchange, so she did what any girlfriend who'd just received a gift as precious as this would do: she pressed her lips to his in a brief, but intense, kiss. Although she pulled back at once, hugging Rigsby some more to hide her flaming cheeks, she instantly wished she hadn't done it. As brief as the contact had been, it had caused the butterflies in her stomach to rise at once, and she had the distinct feeling she had gotten Rigsby's hopes up, something that she had hoped to avoid for his own sake.

Pulling out of his embrace, she looked at him and was met with the most dumbstruck expression she'd ever seen him wear – which said a lot considering their daily work with Patrick Jane. She gave the poor man a reassuring smile before she turned her eyes back to the ring. She tried it on. It fit perfectly. Holding out her left hand to admire the silver band, she beamed at Rigsby.

"Thank you, Wayne. It's perfect."

van Pelt saw relief in his blue eyes as he gave her a crooked smile.

"I'm glad you like it.", he said warmly before reluctantly reminding her that she was expected at the stall by Trish. She nodded, torn between wanting to enjoy this moment for a little longer and running from an awkward situation. When she asked him to join her, Rigsby shook his head.

"I'll walk you there, but since probably no one wants to see me represent the shelter and since you know so much better what to say, I'll pass. I'm gonna take a walk around, maybe get some non-organic food."

Scolding, she smacked his shoulder and took off after waving Pete goodbye. Rigsby shot the man an apologetic look. "I'd better not keep my lady waiting.", he said, and Pete grinned.

"It's sad, man. All the cookie points you earned with that ring, and then you blow it all to hell with one stupid comment. You should learn when to keep your big mouth shut."

Rigsby knew fully well that van Pelt didn't hold his craving for junk food against him, at least not seriously, so he was fairly relaxed when he followed her, happy that she hadn't taken offense in his little present.

* * *

><p>It turned out that Trish desperately needed a break, so she just installed Grace and Lynn behind the counter and took off, all the way sputtering last minute instructions. Since there were quite a few people swarming the stall, Wayne and Annabelle, whom Lynn had carelessly abandoned, got in the way no matter what they did. Wayne, despite his usual unease around youngsters, suggested a tactical retreat.<p>

"How 'bout I buy you ice cream?", he offered, and to his surprise Annabelle didn't roll her eyes or smack her gum or whatever he might have expected from anyone under the age of 21, but nodded gratefully. They took off without announcing their departure, for their women were far too busy to notice.

Ten minutes later they were sitting in an ice cream parlour, each of them with a huge sundae in front of them.

Another ten minutes later Rigsby had realized that Annabelle was quite easy to talk to, and once she'd overcome her initial shyness, she was actually quite funny, though her dry, biting sense of humour might not go down well with everybody.

* * *

><p>When Annabelle and Rigsby came back about two hours later, the crowd had subsided. Lynn leaped out of the stall, hugging her girlfriend, and playfully scolded Rigsby. "Wayne, you can't just take my girl on a date and leave your own woman to the vultures."<p>

Rigsby, who'd just smiled 'hi' to van Pelt, gave the younger woman a curious look. "What do you mean, leave her to the vultures?"

van Pelt piped in. "It's nothing. Just a guy hitting on me.", she explained.

"Just hitting on you, my ass!", Lynn exclaimed. "He practically screwed you with his eyes from the moment he saw you. And he didn't get lost even after she told him she was taken.", she told Rigsby, who seemed unimpressed. This often happened to his beautiful partner, and as long as she didn't encourage the men's antics, he usually didn't worry too much. Now was a different matter, though. He was posing as her boyfriend, so he was supposed to be jealous, wasn't he? Since this could very well be the only time he'd ever do that and get away with it, he might as well go all the way.

Just then Lynn bounced on her heels, nudging him to get his attention.

"Look, here he comes again. Oooops, looks like he's going for kill this time."

The girl pointed towards a middle-aged man with blond, straight hair who was brandishing a potted sunflower like a shield and was making his way towards them, a hopeful smile on his face.

"Wanna set him straight, Wayne?", Lynn teased, while Annabelle just rolled her eyes, obviously not half as excited as her girlfriend at the prospect of a brawl. van Pelt cringed and hid her face in her hands in a gesture that practically screamed 'someone help me!' at him. It was pretty obvious she'd had it with the guy.

"Looks like he needs some serious straightening out.", Rigsby grumbled. "Maybe I should punch him."

To his surprise, van Pelt stepped up close to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him.

"Or", she said, smiling sweetly, "you could kiss me to get your point across." She wasn't even sure why she said that, it had just slipped out. Obviously, Rigsby was just as taken aback as she was, for his eyes widened in shock, silently asking if she was sure. She nodded, and he lowered his face to hers.

"We're gonna talk about this.", he whispered so close to her mouth that she could almost feel his lips move against hers.

"Promise.", she replied just as quietly before closing her eyes to savour the sensation of their first 'real' kiss. The spontaneous peck as she thanked him for the ring didn't really count in her book. Before she could think any more, Wayne had lowered his lips to hers. They were surprisingly soft, she noted. He moved them against hers gently, deliberately, caressing her upper and bottom lip in turn but never deepening the kiss. _Always the gentleman, my Rigsby,_ she thought before giving in to impulse and kissing him back.

They stayed like that for another moment, kissing tenderly, when she felt Wayne smile against her mouth. He drew back slightly, clearly overwhelmed by what had just transpired between them. Grace was glad she wasn't the only one shaken, or she would have felt stupid. She needn't have worried, she suddenly realized. Not with Rigsby who adored her so much it wasn't even funny.

Still holding her close, he bent down to whisper in her ear. "I think he got the message. Left just after picking his shattered heart off the floor."

Looking up to meet his eyes, Grace stated dryly: "Well, he should have listened when I told him I was a taken woman."

"You're cruel.", Wayne accused, stifling a laugh. Somehow she had just managed to move them past what could have become an awkward moment.

"Only if I have to be.", she replied, taking a step backwards before turning and taking his hand.

"Come on. Trish said I'm off, and I want to get some real food.", she told him.

"A woman of my heart.", he murmured, then laced his fingers through hers and followed her gladly.

* * *

><p>The rain that had been lurking in the grey clouds all day came a few minutes before the pair reached their car. It didn't start slowly, there were no soft drops warning people of things to come, the sky just opened and unceremoniously dumped a month's worth of water on the land and everyone who was careless enough to be outside. Within seconds, van Pelt and Rigsby were soaked to the bones, their clothes clinging to their skin. van Pelt's long hair was plastered to her face, but she didn't seem to mind. If fact, when they did reach their car and Rigsby couldn't find the keys in his dripping pocket, she put her head back and grinned at the pouring rain, water streaming down her cheeks and flowing into her mouth as she laughed. Puzzled, Rigsby stopped digging around in his pockets and looked at her quizzically.<p>

"What?", she demanded, still grinning from ear to ear.

"You find that funny?", he asked.

"Don't you? We've just made progress in our case, and we've managed to pull off the 'in love-act' a whole day in front of a bunch of people. Everything went perfect today, and then, when nothing can seriously go wrong any more, the weather decides to have the last word, and you have to pick this of all times to lose the keys ."

If you looked at it that way, the situation was really quite funny, he supposed.

"We're lucky fate didn't decide to set us straight before, huh?", Rigsby deadpanned, finally producing the keys from a pocket at his leg.

"Hmpf! Should've known cargo pants are too smart for me."

Still smiling, van Pelt grabbed the elusive keys from him, squeezing his hand in the process.

"Don't sell yourself short. I bet you'll be able to tell every one of these pockets apart if I filled them with snacks. By the way, I'm driving. That way we'll get home much faster."

He knew it was true, so he didn't protest, just sat back in his seat and munched on the leftover carrot sticks he'd retrieved from her bag.

For a while, they rode in silence, the air from the vents slowly drying their hair. Casting a glance at his partner, Rigsby saw that her hair had begun to curl in the hot air stream. She looked much softer than usual, and he wished he'd see that look on her more often.

"Can I ask you a personal question?", he said softly, causing her to frown.

"Go ahead. I doubt we'll get more personal than we already have without actual intercourse."

He blushed and almost choked on his words. Busted again!

"Just so you know, that wasn't what I was getting at. I wonder why you strainghten your hair every day. It must take hours, and I don't see the point when you look so nice with your natural curls."

Now it was her turn to blush. "You know, it's probably silly. I feel like I have to prove myself on the job every day, and as it seems, the curly look makes me look too... soft when all I really want is to be regarded for my abilities as a CBI agent, not my looks. It's hard sometimes, being a woman on the job. I guess I just want to look more tough than I really am so people take me seriously."

He understood. When she first walked into his life, he had seen her natural beauty radiate from her every pore. He hadn't known her then but had felt drawn to her like a moth to the flame. Only when he'd gotten to know her better had he realized how capable she was, what she added to the team. It made sense that she would want to hide her beauty for professionalism's sake. Still, in his eyes, that didn't work.

"I see. But I must inform you that it's no use hiding those pretty curls of yours to look like the tough and mean cop you want to present. It's not working anyway."

When he saw the hurt look on her face he hastily added: "You know, compared to Lisbon we ALL look like a butch of softies."

That made her crack up, and she smacked his arm. "Nice save, mister. You're lucky we're home or else I might have decided to make you walk the rest of the way."

With that, she parked the car, grabbed her bag and hurried towards their apartment building, leaving her partner and his bruised arm behind.

* * *

><p>When Rigsby entered their apartment, van Pelt was already in the process of undressing, leaving a trail of wet clothes behind that ended at the bathroom door. "I'll shower first.", she informed him matter-of-factly. "I laid out some towels for you so you don't have to run around all wet. They're on the bed."<p>

"Thanks. I would've let you go first in the bathroom anyway, I'm a gentleman after all.", he teased as he peeled off his soaked shirt and cargo pants. Grace had left the bathroom door half-open, so he could hear her chuckle. "Better save than sorry, right? Oh, by the way, you can start to pester me with questions."

Slightly puzzled, he asked what she meant.

"I know you want to ask me how I feel about meeting Keith again and about him being a person of interest in our case. So fire away."

Damn, the woman knew him well. He'd been dying to ask her about Bradshaw the moment she'd walked up to him with the guy. Wayne worried that meeting Bradshaw again would open old wounds in Grace. What that would do to their investigation wasn't even his main concern. He'd only refrained from nagging her because he didn't want to pry. Now that she'd given him permission to do just that, he asked: "So, how DO you feel about meeting Keith Bradshaw again? I guess it must have been quite a shock."

She turned the shower on, still not shutting the bathroom door. Rigsby wondered if she was even aware that the door was still open or if she did it on purpose so they could talk. Either way, he felt honoured by her display of trust, being naked in there (_No, don't think about naked Grace, just don't go there!_) and still trusting him not to walk in and sneak a peek (which he wouldn't even dream of, of course...).

Shouting to be heard over the running water she replied: "Well, I must admit it was a shock to see him again. I was worried at first that he'd see through my cover, but when I realized that he hadn't even known my last name when I was in college, I started to relax. I mean, that man is so full of himself and so obsessed with his cause that he didn't think twice about me coming back to the scene even though I had abandoned them without a word after that facility incident."

"That's not what I meant, Grace, and you know that perfectly well. How do you feel about meeting Bradshaw, I mean, personally? After all, you two have been close at one time."

"Relax, Wayne, I don't feel anything about seeing Keith. He wasn't a close friend, just someone my friends and I hung out with. I admit he WAS a role model for me at some point, but believe me, he wasn't the first and he wasn't, by far, the last."

Thinking about the way she admired their boss, Rigsby smiled to himself.

"I'll believe you for now. But if you're in any way uncomfortable with meeting Bradshaw again, you have to tell me and we'll figure something out, okay?"

The shower had stopped, and Rigsby guessed she was washing her hair right now.

"Okay. But I'll be fine, really. If you've dried off, can you check my mail for me?", she asked.

"Are you sure? What if there's personal stuff in your inbox?"

She gave an exasperated sigh that was slightly muffled from her wet hair hanging in front of her face.

"Wayne, that mailbox has been created for this assignment only. Who on earth should send me personal stuff? Lisbon? Cho?"

She was right, of course, so Rigsby booted the computer and clicked on the outlook symbol.

"Password?", he called over his shoulder.

Oh, right, he needed her password to access her account. Great! He would probably laugh his ass off when she told him.

"Lassie", she called back and waited for his snort.

"Lassie? Really?", he teased softly. "What's so special about Lassie?"

"I thought it fitting for this assignment.", she said defensively. "And I always wanted a collie when I was a girl."

"Did you ever get one?", he wanted to know.

"No, never. My dad thought they were wussies. So, did we get word from the boss?"

"Nah. There's just one mail, and it's from Jane."

"What does he write?"

Silence met her ears, and she turned off the shower to hear if she'd missed anything Rigsby had said. But he didn't answer.

"Wayne? What does Jane want?"

"I'm not gonna read that one out to you."

Climbing out of the shower and wrapping a towel around her hair, van Pelt dried off and grabbed her body lotion.

"Why not? I'll be out in a few minutes and then I'm gonna read it anyway because you're much too decent to delete anything from my inbox, so just read it to me, for cryin' out loud."

He knew she was right, of course, so Rigsby took a deep breath and read:

"_Hey, pretty lady,_

_How are things going in good, old L.A.? Did you learn anything useful about each other? And has Rigsby finally given in and shown you his sexual prowess? Is he, indeed, as good in bed as I assumed? I hope so for your sake, you deserve it._

_Interested,_

_Patrick Jane_"

Grace could practically hear her partner blush when he read these lines, and she suppressed an angry shout, instead telling him in as calm a voice as she could muster at the moment: "Forward the mail to Lisbon."

He was obviously shocked.

"Really? She's gonna kill him for that."

"Good, then I don't have to do it when we get back. Seriously, the man has no shame, and I won't have him interfere in our investigation with his childish antics. Lisbon told him he could not call or text us, but he obviously needs to be told not to bother us via e-mail, either. Just forward the mail, and the rest is up to the boss." She wasn't about to tell him how angry Jane's innuendos had made her, especially at a time when she was feeling emotionally vulnerable. She knew she had feelings for Wayne Rigsby, but she wouldn't let Jane make her feel cheap and dirty about them. If he fooled around with her personal affairs, he would pay.

Rigsby, still embarrassed like hell, hit the 'forward' button, sending their boss Jane's mail and wondering how he should ever look Grace in the eye after this.

"You know, that was kinda cruel, sending Lisbon on Jane, even though he deserves it. I never knew you were a secret sadist.", he teased, hoping to lighten the mood and distract van Pelt from the mail's content.

"I'm far from that, Wayne. I'm just all for fairness, and I like small sins being punished immediately. And what better punishment than Lisbon's wrath?", she joked and came to the bedroom, clad in yoga pants and tank top, her hair still wrapped in the towel.

"Bathroom's all yours. What do you want for dinner? I for one suggest ordering in because I'm not cooking tonight. How about pizza?"

Rigsby grinned happily at the prospect of unhealthy food, and lots of it.

"Sounds perfect, even though the case isn't closed yet. But I think we still deserve it."


End file.
